


Under Lock and Key

by Ye_Olde_Taffer



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician), Thief (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Garrett needs a hug, Gen, Kay maybe a little more than implications, Like a lot of hugs, Rated Mature now Jebus, References of Sexual Activity, and swears, implications of rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:10:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ye_Olde_Taffer/pseuds/Ye_Olde_Taffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.</p><p>(I can write summaries, yay! I had a little bit of an existential crisis when I finished the Thief Reboot from Square Enix and Eidos Montreal, thus stories. An OC story I adjusted for the readers enjoyment, so enjoy!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Safes Aren't Hard to Crack

**Author's Note:**

> The characters or songs I have mentioned that do not belong to the Thief Game (and are not either reader or Mordred) are based off of actual people. I'm not creative when it comes to humans, so work with me people.
> 
> Also, Genderbent Matt Sheeran. Because I needed a female friend that wasn't Xiao or the Queen of Beggars.
> 
> (Updates will be once a week, starting today.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

Usually, a lock wouldnt hold me back. But, despite what they say, you can’t open everything with lock picks. Like a heart. And The Master Thief’s heart wasn’t going to open with sweet nothings and coins. No, it would take a while for me to worm my way into it.

It started at the D’metra Estate.

Basso, my fence and old friend since forever ago, had told me of a jewelled pocket watch he wanted in particular and told me I was one of only two thieves that could get to it. I didn’t bother to ask why, or who this other thief was. That wasn’t information I would need. So I set out to D’metra, already devising how to get past the ‘platoon’ of guards surrounding and scouting the building. When I reached the Estate, I realised I wasn’t the only thief wanting that pocket watch. Sometimes I wondered how guards could be so blind – I’d seen the person in the shadows as soon as I had a full glimpse of the garden. I had to admit: even from here they looked impressive. The man, I assume, was actually quite small even when stood (probably only an inch or so taller than myself). They (let’s call them Flynn) wore mostly leather, with a thick cloak trailing down their back. The most eye-catching feat was the bow clipped to his back, which seemed too small to shoot from. I smiled under my scarf; I always enjoy a little competition. Of course, luck was on my side, for I had broken into D’metra a few times before, and knew of several different entrances. By the time they had found the safe I’d be back to Basso and filling my coin pouch. The game was on.

Stepping silently across the rooftop, I searched for my regular passage through the steam vent around the side of the house. Guards were sparse there, and their routes barely passed, giving me safe passage in and out of the house. I couldn’t help but feel I was being watched, and decided that Flynn was following me. That meant two things; either Flynn knew of the exact same entrance, or he had no idea how to get into the estate. Well, he wasn’t tagging on behind me. I turned around to tell him just that, but there was nobody there – or so I thought. It took me a while of searching before I remembered my new abilities, and smacked myself on the forehead. Who could forget such an obvious skill? Concentrating hard, I searched for a tell-tale blue of a body. I saw him crouched behind a box, his head poked around the side. He wouldn’t be very good at hide and seek.

“I can see you, you know.” I spoke out, loud enough for him to hear, but not so much the guards below us would suspect something. Flynn stepped around the box, stalking towards me with almost cat-like motions, before standing to his full height above me.

“How did you manage that?”

I laughed, “You’re not as good at hiding as you think.” I stood along-side him, my hypothesis on him being short seemingly correct as I reached almost eye-level with him. Now I was up close to this thief, it was easier to asses him. Flynn had a... peculiar way of standing, let’s say; his knees were bent into an almost-squat, and his arms were folded in a knot over his chest. His nose was rather large and crooked, but it seemingly fit his face well. Underneath that was the stubble of a growing moustache, which spread across to his slightly defined cheek bones. The most noticeable feature was the thick, about-a-year-old scar that trailed up the right side of his face, cutting from just below his cheek bone, through his right eye (which was strangely different to his left) and slit through his brow. I found myself mesmerised by his heterochromian eyes. One was a regular caramel-coffee brown, which seemed to fade darker as you looked upwards into the pupil. The right eye, that I mentioned earlier, was quite different, but I’ve seen it before – in my own. His right eye was pupil-less, and glowed a hypnotizing shade of turquoise. It was a powerful colour that drew you in, and soon I was lost in his eyes like a giggling young sweetheart. It still sickens me. Flynn also seemed quite interested in my eyes, which are, as I mentioned, incredibly similar to his right one. Mine are somewhat bluer than his, but glow with the same fire and have the same pupil-less quality. There was a swift moment when my blue eyes met his one, and I lurched forward as blinding white covered my vision. I could hear Flynn obviously curse beside me, but his voice sounded so cold and distant, and was being taken over by the screams of a young woman.

“Garrett, I’m slipping!” I saw a hand, but not my own, holding onto a lady in black, who was hanging about twenty five feet off the ground –

“Garrett, give me the Claw!” I found myself turning my head to look at a black, oblong object lying on cracked glass, and saw another arm reaching out to grab it. I felt something slipping in my left hand, and forced myself to look back just to see the girl falling, her screams reverberating through my head. After that, there were several seconds of just staring, before my body involuntarily rolled and grabbed the object from earlier... just as the rest of the glass caved in.

I sat up, not bothering to wonder how I ended up lying on the rooftops, and let out raspy breathes as I turned to the thief next to me. He looked panicked, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open as he attempted speech. “I’m fine. It happens all the time.” That was a lie; I’d never had an experience like that before. I thought back to the things I saw and heard, and looked down to Flynn’s hands. The gloves worn there were exactly the same as the ones I had seen, except the leather had been worn down since then. ‘Garrett’ also slipped into my mind – the woman was screaming to me. Was this Garrett, then? I thought longer, wondering: where had I heard that name? It wasn’t common that’s for sure. I thought hard, trying to remember why the name was so familiar...

 Basso had mentioned a Garrett.

“It didn’t look like it.” I realised the thief was speaking to me, and had to think before I remembered my statement. Well, no point on dwelling on that. I needed answers, and fast.

“Did Basso send you?” Straight to the point, I know, but he didn’t look like someone that would soften if I started buttering up to him. His eyes (which had gone back to their cat-eyed shape) widened once more, and I found myself pressed to the roof, a large hand putting pressure on my neck.

“What do you know about Basso?!” His voice was harsh, but hissed; he still seemed wary of the guards beneath us. The way he spoke now in comparison to the previous things he had said almost scared me. He could change when he wanted to.

“Calm down! And let me go,” I struggled, finding it was suddenly becoming harder to breathe, “I work for him!” Garrett (I was guessing that was his name) seemed unsure, but let me go all the same, perhaps thinking of what Basso would say if he really had chocked one of his thieves.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his eyes narrowing before he whispered, “so you’re here for the pocket watch?” Ah, so _this_ was the ‘other thief’ Basso mentioned. Sometimes I wonder if he pairs me up on purpose – he _knows_ I hate men.

“Yeah, I am. I’m guessing Basso said you’re the only one of two thieves that could accomplish this?” He looked perplexed. Oh, how did I know?

“He told me the same.” His confusion cleared, and his face became mutual and expressionless, “Well, we may as well work together if-”

“I work alone.” The response was strict and brooding, an almost warning tone in his voice that meant ‘stay out of my way or I’ll feed you to the watchdogs.’

But I wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Now listen here, ‘Garrett’,” He stiffened, stopping in his quick paces to look over his shoulder with cold eyes, “I don’t care if you work alone; we work for the same man, and it was probably him that set this up. So like it or not, you’re stuck with me and I’m stuck with you.” A huff was the last thing I heard from him before he moved his hand in a ‘come on’ motion, and sped towards my entrance. Throughout the house, there were only two guards actually patrolling, the rest either outside or snoozing in an arm-chair. It seemed almost too easy to reach the safe-room. Only then did Garrett decide to start up a conversation.

“So, you know my name, what’s yours?” Do I trust him? Well, the fact that he was so protective over Basso seemed to decide for me (and I knew more than just his name, so I should at least try to balance it out).

“(Insert Name Here).” There. He wanted my name and he had it.

“(Name),” he repeated, and I couldn’t decide whether he was testing it or was just plain stupid. All the same, my own name sounded foreign on his tongue, “I like it.” Well, that must have been something – he didn’t seem like the kind of person that would like just anything. He looked like someone who would be disapproving if you brought him the crown jewels. In the corner of the room, was a large painting of a man, consulting his pocket watch. A jewelled pocket watch.

“This seems too likely to be coincidence.” Garrett muttered, as he stalked over to the corner, hands reaching out to the gold plated frame. About 10 seconds of searching was all he needed, for after that the painting shifted, and was dragged upwards to reveal a combination-locked safe.

“Look around for documents, the code might be-” He couldn’t finish the sentence as I shouldered him away, my itching fingers closing in on the first dial.

“Watch and learn.” It was my time to shine now, so I concentrated hard, looking for any indication on what the code could be. I turned the dial to the left, eyes trained on the ring of sound it produced. It took a few turns, but in the end I chose the numbers holding the biggest loop, and heard a satisfying ‘click’ as all the locks came out of place. I turned and raised a brow, as if to say ‘I told you so’ and the look on his face was about as elating to me as the click.

“How did you do that?” Snickering, I tapped under my eye, and turned back around to pull open the safe, looking excitedly for the watch. ‘Oh, what will Basso give me for this piece I wonder’-

 

But it wasn’t there.


	2. Meet Mordred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters or songs I have mentioned that do not belong to the Thief Game (and are not either reader or Mordred) are based off of actual people. I'm not creative when it comes to humans, so work with me people.

“What do you mean it wasn’t there?!” I sighed. Basso could blow a fuse when he wanted to.

“We mean the pocket watch wasn’t at the estate,” I repeated, as Garrett leant against the wall, his index and thumb rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation, “We checked the whole place, Basso. The watch was gone.”

“Maybe someone else got in first?” It was the first time Garrett had spoken since we got here, and though correct as his prediction could be, I could hear even _he_ found the idea far-fetched.

“And reset the safe and painting before they left? Why would they do that?” Poor Garrett; he was merely trying to comfort the man and he was getting an earful for it.

“Easy, Basso, it’s a perfectly reasonable suggestion. And we’ll find your pocket watch, don’t worry.” I don’t know why, but I felt the need to defend the other thief, despite only knowing him an hour or two.

Basso grumbled.

“Fine. But next time the Thief-Taker General comes around for his tax, it’s coming out of you guys’ pays.”

“You don’t pay me!” That’s actually true. Instead of gold, Basso lets me reside in The Crippled Burrick tavern that he owns. And, hey, food for stealing? That’s a privilege in times like this. I probably shouldn’t have yelled, though. Even Garrett, this smooth and worriless gentleman, seemed wary that Basso was going to blow. He was becoming a very intriguing shade of red.

_Bang!_

The tension in the room faded as a clatter was heard outside, and a small apparition tumbled down the stairs...

“Mommy!”

“Mommy?” The tone in the Master Thief’s voice almost made me laugh, as this soot-and-dirt smudged brunette sped across the room to crash into my waist.

“Mordred! What are you doing; you should be in bed.” I looked accusingly Basso, whose hands were already up in mock defence.

“Hey, last time I checked, he was asleep. I swear!” It was quite fun watching this large man wither under my gaze.

“I wanted to see the pocket watch Mommy – is it pretty? Can I see it?” Oh no, he was doing the ‘obey me or I’ll cry’ face.

“No, Mordred. I’m sorry.” His face was already crumpling, so I had to quickly add, “We didn’t find it, sweetheart, we were just telling Basso about it.”

“We?” Oh lord, I’d almost forgotten about Garrett. Turning the best I could (Mordred was still clinging to me) I sent the man an apologetic look.

“Sorry; you must be confused.”

“Little bit.” Oh his face sometimes! One eyebrow was arched, the other creased into a straight line, and his lips were twitching. I didn’t know if he was amused or annoyed, - I don’t think he did either.

“Garrett, this is my son Mordred,” Why do I feel such a need to tell confide my whole life in him? “Mordred, this is Garrett. He works for Basso.”

“Basso’s told me about you!” A stubby finger directed my view back to the thief as my son giddily jumped up and down, “He said he likes you, ‘cause you’re stranger than him.” I heard Basso sputtering behind me; probably choking on the wine he’d started drinking to calm his nerves.

“No I did not.” I wasn’t concentrating on Basso’s rebukes. Instead, I was enraptured in the smirk that flitted across the Master Thief’s lips as Mordred finished jumping and started arguing with the elder man.

   He has a nice smirk.

‘Stop it (Name).’ My subconscious was right; I didn’t want another Mordred. I didn’t know how much I could trust this man. I know how much I can trust Mordred’s father – Not very much, apparently.

I decided it wasn’t worth trying to put him to bed, so I left all three of the boys downstairs and walked into the actual tavern of The Crippled Burrick.

“Ok, so I’m going to go with the benefit of the doubt and hope he isn’t Basso’s son.” Garrett’s smooth voice pulled me out of my misery, and I turned to look into his iridescent eye.

“Ee-Gads, no. I’ve known Basso for twelve years and the thought still hasn’t passed my mind.”

He nodded.

“So, whose is he?” I hesitated. The thing was I wasn’t actually _sure_ who his father was, but I had a good idea. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anything similar to a dock frock, Madam Xiao Xiao’s blossoms, or anything in between. It’s just, well, you wouldn’t really be thinking about who was actually holding you down while being stripped down and violated.

“The Thief-Taker’s?” If I had to put Garrett’s expression to words, shock would be an understatement. He looked as though I’d just slapped him in the face, his eyes wide and unnerving. It seemed even worse when his eyes closed to slits, one eyebrow furrowing and the other still glued high on his forehead.

“Don’t look like that. I didn’t exactly ask for him to be his father.”

“No, I’m just trying to think how he looks like him.” I sighed; so he wasn’t mad. ‘Why would he be? It’s not like he’s his new father or anything.’ My subconscious hissed. She always got the better of me.

“He looks more like my father.” It wasn’t very explanatory, but it seemed enough for him.

“That happen a lot?” Inquisitive little man, isn’t he?

“Yeah; I look like my grandmother.” I don’t understand why, but I seem so at ease speaking to him. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen what he can do with his ‘Blackjack’ (some kind of truncheon like thing) and I don’t want to end up in a river.

I lifted my gaze back up at the thief, to find him just... looking. Maybe he was thinking? Mordred then decided to flit into the room, his eyes blazing with childish anger.

“Mommy! Tell Basso he’s a big old meanie!” I heard a chuckle beside me. Not just any chuckle though; it was one of those half laugh half huff things, and it was incredibly deep – so much so the sound was still resonating in my ears a second or so later.

“Oh Mordred, you really need to go to bed. Basso, you’re a big old meanie.” I sent him a ‘just to make him happy’ look, that he seemed to understand, and took hold of my fuming little boy’s hand.

“But... but I’m not tired.” He gave himself away by yawning, and was already nodding off as I tugged him towards the stairs to our shared room above The Burrick.

“Hmm, and I’m the Baron’s mistress; come on you. Good night Basso, Garrett.” Basso sent us his usual grumble, but I saw Garrett briefly nod his head before they were both out of sight. I waited by the door I had just closed for a second. ‘Well, tonight was certainly eventful.’ Damn you, subconscious, I was trying to think. But as much as I hated to admit, she was right - she always is. So far I’d made a new friend (if I can call the Master Thief a friend), infuriated Basso, and told someone my most precious secret for nine years. Who knew what the next few hours of getting Mordred into bed would be like?

Surprisingly, when we got to our room Mordred just shuffled silently over and slid under the thin covers of our bed.

“I’m not tired, he says.” I mocked him, rolling him over onto his stomach to make room for myself.

“Mhmm.” And he was asleep. I smiled; Mordred forever struggled with staying awake the majority of the time, never mind at three o’clock in the morning.

“Night, sweetie.” I whispered, wrapping an arm around him and closing my eyes.

 

Black. It was all black.

“Hello?!” Well done, (Name); in the dark where anything could be hiding and the first thing you do is call out. Real smooth.

“What are you doing here?” A voice hissed. I was so sure I had heard the voice, though I couldn’t remember where. I was about to answer, when _another_ voice yelled,

“Erin?” Erin? Who on earth is Erin? And who was that that said the name? The black that I had been getting used to finally cleared as clumps of blue… poppies, I think, lit up around the wide space. As I looked up, I noticed there was no blue sky, or any sky for that matter. There was just nothing. Thick, lead tiles covered the floor beneath me, with uneven gaps between them leading into complete nothingness. Hm, just like the sky. Turning gracelessly in a complete circle, I surveyed my surroundings until I saw a silhouette illuminated slightly be the cyan glow. Hold on – there’s only one person I know that stands like that.

“Garrett?” the figure turned swiftly, and sure enough, the Master Thief’s already familiar face came into my view.

“Oh thank the Gods!” I yelled, louder than I wanted to, and jogged over to the thief, “Where are we?”

“I… have no idea.” Surprising? Not really. Still, it was a first to hear that from Garrett, though I had spoken to him for about a half hour in the space of meeting him.

“I asked what you were doing here!” A bright flash emitted before the two of us, and a figure stood not ten feet away.

“Erin! But I thought-”

“You thought a lot of things, Garrett, but you were wrong.” What? Whatever this was, it was all news to me. Was Erin the woman I had seen at D’metra?

“Garrett, I don’t-”

“And who is this, another apprentice for you to abandon?!” I looked over at the thief, my jaw becoming slack. This girl was his apprentice. What did she mean by abandon? So many questions ran through my head, but Garrett seemed unable to answer them at the moment.

“You don’t understand Erin.” He cried, his eyes showing the betrayal he must have been feeling, “I never meant to do that to you!”

“Ha! Sure you didn’t, Garrett. But I won’t let you do to her what you did to me!” With a final shriek, she flung out her arms, and a blue wave of energy engulfed the both of us.

 

And then I woke up.


	3. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Besides the characters or songs I have mentioned that do not belong to the Thief Game (and are not either reader or Mordred) are based off of actual people. I'm not creative when it comes to humans, so work with me people.
> 
> Also, Genderbent Matt Sheeran. Because I needed a female friend that wasn't Xiao or the Queen of Beggars

I stumbled down the steps to see Basso lounging lazily on his makeshift wooden bed. He wouldn’t be able to make compatible conversation for at least another two hours. Sighing, I trudged back up the steps and to the back alley behind the Burrick. I needed answers from someone, and the only one I know has any chance of understanding me is the majority of my inquiries. There was only one other person that could help me here:

The Queen of Beggars.

Stepping weakly through the churchyard, I tried hard to look as though I could be anything but nervous, which is very hard on a Sunday morning at nine o’clock. Beggars huddled in corners and under rotting pews, watching me in fear of me taking what little they have. The Queen herself – from what I understand – was sat at the very alter of the church, beside her a chess board and a tea set. Strange.

“You’re new here, aren’t you child?” I jumped. Did she mean me, or was there a new unfortunate soul sitting with all the others around her?

“You, dear,” She pointed a bony finger straight at my chest, “come closer.”

Doing as she asked, I paced timidly across the uneven cobbled floor, my resolve becoming weaker as I reached her. The Queen had a demeaning aura about her, despite her seemingly harmless appearance. She seemed to understand my queries, for she smiled, her pointing finger turning into an open palm.

“I won’t hurt you, child. Come; I’m sure there is much you would like to discuss.” The hand beckoning me was sincerely more welcoming than the finger, so I broadened my slow steps and put my right hand in her left. I shivered as I touched her; her hands were not cold, but still they seemed different to the average human hand. With what felt like great purpose, she pulled me down to sit beside her.

“So, my dear,” She began, “what is your name?” I’d been asked this question a lot recently - I seemed to be making a lot of friends.

“(Name).” I whispered, my voice a lot quieter and weaker than I wished it to be.

“And what is it you wish to speak to me of?”

“I was hoping you may know something about a dream I’ve had.” I’ve been too trusting towards people lately. First I tell ‘Public Enemy No. 1’ my life’s secret, and now I’m telling a complete stranger I only know of through rumours the fantasies my brain emits during my body’s inactivity.

“Ah, yes.” She nodded knowingly – surely that couldn’t have made any sense to her? “Go on.”

I explained all I had encountered during the few hours in which I slept, all the while she nodded and smiled placidly. No matter how far I delved into my dream, I always kept to ‘Man in Black’ and hoped she didn’t catch on (in case she knew Garrett).

“Oh, (Name),” The Queen smiled, her blind eyes showing a mysterious emotion I couldn’t hold, “If you wish to understand, you should listen to The City, and all it has to offer…” What?

“But what does that mean? The City can’t talk; it’s a cluster of inanimate objects!” Frustration was getting the better of me. ‘Calm down, stupid, she knows more than you do!’ my subconscious hissed. As much as I hate it, I had to submit to her, because she knows best. That’s the norm in my mixed up world.

“Ah, but those objects tell stories, when you look close enough. This City will tell you all in time, if you choose to listen.” She stood, signalling our conversation was over. Rising from my spot kneeling beside her chair, I waited a second more just in case she wished to say something else, before getting ready to leave.

“Or perhaps you should go talk to Garrett. I’m sure he could tell you a thing or two about this infamous ‘Man in Black’.” I could just hear the smug little grin on her face. She had cheek for an old woman, I’ll give her that.

Back at The Burrick, Basso was finally sitting up and seemingly fine. While I was waiting for his wits to return I had decided I would ask for Garrett’s past.

"Jeez, (Nickname), what’s gotten into you?” The fence leant uncaringly against his rotting desk, a grin on his face that said he knew _exactly_ what had gotten into me, “First, you start flirting with the most distant guy I know, and now according to The Queen of Beggars you’re dreaming about him.”

“Hey, that is irrelevant and private!” My mind began fuming; how _dare_ her! I couldn’t talk to Basso specifically for the reason I didn’t want him thinking I was fantasizing about the damn thief. Apparently, talking to The Queen didn’t help at all.

“Well, all I’m saying is you seem to really trust Garrett. Personally, I think that’s a bad idea.” Did I really come across that way? It was usually very hard for me to trust people, but Garrett seemed to pick at me in a way no one else ever had.

“Look, Basso, all I want is a little background on him. I’d prefer not to ask him the day after meeting him.”

“(Nickname), I don’t exactly love the guy, but he’s a good companion of mine, and it wouldn’t be right to talk about his past behind his back.” I sighed in exasperation; Basso had to have the biggest mouth in The City and he wouldn’t even tell me what the thief was up to a month ago?

“If it means that much to you, go ask him yourself. But I can’t guarantee he’ll tell you everything.”

“I just don’t wanna butt into his life like that.” That had to be the truest statement I’d made in the past nine years of my life, “You said he’s a distant guy – I doubt he’d tell _me_ anything.”

“I dunno; he was pretty open with you last night.” What? Shocked, I looked up at the box man as he held the nose of the bottle he was holding against his chin. He had some kind of wondering look in his eyes, as though he was thinking of something absurd.

“Basso?” Instantly, he snapped out of his reverie, and directed his vision almost giddily to me.

“Actually, he seemed pleasantly at ease with you.” The grin on his face told me exactly what he was thinking.

“No, Basso. I’m not in the mood for it today.”

“Oh, come on, (Name).” His grin turned to a pout as he put his hands together pleadingly, getting on his knees in a joking beg, “Not just for you, but for him! He needs some fun in his life.” Arching a brow, I looked down at the elder man from his place in front of the box I sat on.

“Get up, you old man. Stop talking nonsense.”

“I mean it.” He replied, following my command (he was probably thinking like I was – he’d get stuck down there if he knelt for too long), “Garrett has no sense of humour at all. At least one no one but himself understands.”

“Maybe he just has a different way of thinking.” I laughed, patting Basso on the head.

“Yeah, by different you mean weird.” He retorted, rubbing the spot I’d just hit. A yawn interrupted my ready comeback, and none other than Mordred walked in through the arch Basso called a door.

“Mommy, I had a funny dream.” Poor little guy; he was still struggling to stand even now, and I had to take hold of him and put him on my lap before he fell over.

“Did you now? What about?” Smiling up at the fence with me, I heard him chuckling. Mordred was always good for a laugh, no matter the situation.

“I was in a really dark place, and there were blue things everywhere.” I froze. Surely he couldn’t mean..?

“Did these blue things look like flowers, sweetie?” By now, Basso had stopped laughing, and seemed as alarmed as I was.

“Yeah, like those red ones you showed me last year.” What was once a chance to laugh was now turning into a terrifying moment. First Garrett, now Mordred? He only made it worse by continuing.

“Then I heard a lady yelling, and she saw me and started talking. She was nice at first, but then I asked her if she knew Garrett and she got mad.” No. It couldn’t have been Erin, could it? “Why did she get mad Mommy?”

“I don’t know, darling. Why don’t you go get dressed and we can go to the market today?” Of course I knew why she was mad, but I wasn’t about to tell my son that. Like he would understand anyway. He perked up when I mentioned the market; I know he loves it.

“Okay!” With that, he jumped from my lap, and dashed up the stairs. That was a perk of being a new thief – no one knew my face, so I could go out like a normal person with my normal son.

I wish.

Looking over at Basso, I answered the question we were both thinking.

“No, Mordred doesn’t have anything to do with the Primal.” Wow, shock, surprise! How do I know what the Primal is? Let’s just say I meddled with things I shouldn’t have.

“You sure? ‘Cause I can bet your bottom dollar that Garrett’s dream involved her too.” I’d known from the beginning Garrett had something to do with the age old energy, but how does that link my dream with Mordred at all?

“There’s no way, Basso. I had Mordred before I knew the Primal even existed, never mind this.” I indicated to my eyes to exaggerate my point.

“Alright, fine. But that still doesn’t explain how he had a dream about Erin. The kid has no idea who she is.”

“ _I_ didn’t know who she was until last night!” My temper was rising again. Mordred, this sweet innocent little boy, couldn’t possibly be entangled in all of this… Could he?

“(Name), calm down. Yelling isn’t gonna get us anywhere.” ‘Yeah, (Name), stop being stupid and get ready!’ Stop being stupid, says my subconscious. Believe me, I’m trying.

“Well, I better keep my promise and take Mordred out.” Standing, I turned to leave The Burrick, when Basso spoke up again.

“I meant what I said, though. I gotta admit, he can be strange at times, but Garrett’s not a bad guy.” I sighed; not this again. I was about to tell him no, not again, but he continued, “Just give him a chance (Nickname). Come on.”

“See you, Basso.” With that, I walked up the stairs, and waited at the large wooden doors that separated me from The City. I let my mind wonder, and soon it was back to what Basso had said. Give a man a chance? No. I learnt long ago you can’t trust men for all they’re worth, which for some isn’t a lot. Still, my mind flitted to the way I reacted to Garrett’s smile the night before, and my insides churned. Whether I was giddy or disgusted, I will never know. All I know is I won’t ever give a man a chance, for the protection of me, and for Mordred.

 

I can’t let The City hurt him how it did me.


	4. First Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters or songs I have mentioned that do not belong to the Thief Game (and are not either reader or Mordred) are based off of actual people. I'm not creative when it comes to humans, so work with me people.
> 
> Also, Genderbent Matt Sheeran. Because I needed a female friend that wasn't Xiao or the Queen of Beggars.

After a day of wandering stalls, buying Mordred treats, and watching him play with the other children in The City, the poor boy seemed ready for bed. So, I took him back to The Burrick when it was finally dark, my ego still sore from the ‘discussion’ Basso and I had had.

“Come on, Garrett, please?”

“No.” My brain clicked as I heard the deep voice drift from the fence’s room beneath his tavern.

“Darling, why don’t you go up to bed? I’ll come tuck you in later.”

“Okay, Mommy.” And Mordred disappeared into The Burrick. Agitated, I stepped down into the room below, where I saw the already familiar, ghostly figure that was the Master Thief.

“No what?” I was ignored.

“Garrett, give her a chance.” He couldn’t really mean what I thought, could he? Was he honestly asking Garrett what he asked me only eight hours before?

“No, Basso.” The poor man seemed as annoyed as I was with the fence, and it was only getting worse.

“No to _what,_ Basso?” I sent him a warning shot that he knew meant he was in trouble.

“It’s not what you think, (Nickname).” He put his hands up in defence, his fear evident in his eyes.

“I’m listening.” Crossing my arms, I waited for the river of excuses and stutters that were to come. But instead of watching Basso grovel, I was greeted with Garrett responding.

Right. Next. To my ear.

“Basso wants me to teach you.” His breath on my neck caught me off guard for a moment, and I had to squeeze my eyes tight shut to keep my body from involuntarily punching him square on the nose. When I opened them again, I saw Basso’s previously panicked expression replaced with his signature ‘You were saying?’ look. I glared at him fiercely, trying to tell him that he was thinking the exact opposite to what I was.

“Oh, well, that’s alright then.”

“No, it isn’t.” And what’s that supposed to mean, Mister Thief? He continued, but not to me, “You know I don’t teach, Basso. Not after Erin.” Erin – the name sent my head whirring, and my mouth began to work of its own accord.

“Did you really abandon her?” I felt the aura of the man behind me change as his body stiffened. Oh no. ‘Way to go, (Name). You have succeeded in paralysing the man you met, um, yesterday.’ Again, my subconscious decided to rear her ugly head. I hadn’t paralysed him, surely. Shocked him, angered him even, but not paralysed him.

“What do you know about Erin?” The thief’s voice was surprisingly soft, which only succeeded in scaring me more as I felt his riled stare reach over my shoulder to the box man.

“I didn’t tell her anything, I swear!” Basso seemed a lot more worried about Garrett’s annoyance than he was about my own. I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt the need to defend my friend, no matter how much our conversation disgruntled me.

“I had a dream.” Very explanatory, (Nickname), thank you, “I dunno – I was there, you were there, she was there. She said you abandoned her.” He still hadn’t shifted from when I asked my question. It took him a while before he sighed, and I could feel him relaxing.

“Fine, Basso, I’ll do it.”

“What?” Basso seemed as alarmed at Garrett’s comment as I was.

“I’ll teach her. Now, do you have any jobs for me or not?” That was it; discussion over. And apparently I had no say in it.

“Right, right. Actually I do.” With that, the fence launched head on into a job in Lady Grey’s in Auldale, or what was left of it. From what I heard, most of it had sunk down in a riot against the late Baron Northcrest, along with the grand Auldale Bridge. What happened after that, I have no clue. Anyway, Basso said there were two Montonessi paintings there, plus a valuable ring, holding jewels deemed unobtainable in years past. The Sparkled Band, he called it.

"Hold on, hold on. Isn’t that a snake?” Forgive me and my useless knowledge, but I’m pretty sure there is some difference between a ring and a reptile.

“That’s a Speckled Band.” Garrett responded almost absent minded, nonplussed by my question. Talk about _my_ useless knowledge.

“What’s the catch?”

“The catch is… she never takes it off.” Well, I hope Garrett has a lighter hand than I do, or he’s done for.

“We’ll take it.”

“ _We_?” Surely he didn’t mean –

“Yes, we. You and I.” He did.

“But I thought you work alone?” Never mind him working alone, I couldn’t spend all night with this man; it was bad enough sitting here now!

“I do, but if I’m to teach you a thing or two about stealing, you need to be there. Correct?” Oh, a remark such as that deserves a sassy comeback.

“Alright, Mister Thief,” He visibly stiffened again, “What’s my first lesson?”

“To watch your mouth.” Ooh, okay. I grinned over at Basso as the thief shoved past me, a quick ‘come on’ coming from him.

“I’ll put Mordred to bed.” No matter how much I didn’t want to annoy Garrett any more than necessary, Mordred always came first, and I had promised to tuck him in. I heard him sigh as I paced the steps and jogged up to my room.

By the time I had wrestled Mordred into bed, kissed him on the forehead and tiptoed back downstairs, Garrett seemed almost in pain.

“Took you long enough.” He growled when I returned.

“Have you ever tried to put an eight year old to bed? I didn’t think so!” Crossing my arms tightly across my chest, I snapped back at him. It might sound an easy task, but trust me, it’s not as simple as one two three. Either way, Garrett ended the talk-fast-growing-argument by turning around and stepping out into Stone Market.

He didn’t speak until we reached Lady Grey’s home.

“Large house for one Lady.” In reality, he wasn’t wrong. The house had to be about nine hundred square feet and four stories high, with the attic and cellar. It wouldn’t seem so big if it weren’t for the fact the attic was most likely the tallest level in the building.

“I’m sure she has a daughter as well, and then there are the servants to take care of them.”

“Still...” We continued towards the house and the main gardens, which were also extremely large, and teaming with Watch.

“Crap.” Garrett cussed.

“What’s wrong?” Though I’d only talked to Garrett briefly in the time of knowing him, I could already tell he wasn’t one to say things like that out of the blue.

“Dog.” Following the finger he’d pointed out, I did indeed see a Watch dog chained against the tool shed. Not caged, but restrained.

“He’s tied up.”

“That doesn’t stop his nose and ears from working, does it?” He had a point there. But we couldn’t just shoot it; there was a guard stood right beside it. I concentrated, my vision tinting blue as I searched for a way around the dog. Not long after sweeping the garden did I find it.

“Do you have a way we can get up there?” I asked, now my turn to point to a window one of the servants must have cracked open. Garrett distractedly pulled an arrow from the quiver resting on his back, and I noticed the rope tied to the end.

“Just a warning: I can’t climb too well.” I heard the thief sigh next to me, before beckoning me to follow him as he jumped down from the roof adjacent to the garden which we were perched on. Doing as I was told, I crept behind him, still wary of the dog on the other end of the grounds. A _thunk_ broke me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see the arrow Garrett had brought out embedded in a post near the window.

“Here – I’ll give you a leg up.” He said, already getting into position as he said it.

“Alright, fine. But you do realise it isn’t going to make me climb any better.” Resting a foot in his held out palms, I readied myself for him lifting me up.

  I was suddenly airborne.

“Bloody hell!” I hissed, biting my tongue to stop me from yelling out and alerting anyone. Barely managing to grab the rope before my face, I held on tight and held still for a minute as I got my breath back.

“You okay?” I heard a whisper from beneath me, and simply snapped:

“Peachy.” Glaring down at Garrett, who was already beginning to climb beneath me, I spat, “You call that a leg up? You threw me!”

“It got you up, didn’t it?” That was irrelevant, Mister Thief; I could’ve died. Well, not died, but seriously injured myself. ‘Stop being a baby and climb!’ my subconscious jeered. I had to give him credit – he must be strong to lift someone my weight and height, and I was almost level with the window ledge already. It only took me 3 more tugs and I was able to flop onto the ledge. I heard a light thump as Garrett landed beside me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?"

"I’m fine; just don’t ever do that again.” He chuckled, like he had the night before, and it seemed to wind me more than the throw. After pulling myself together, I slipped into the window he had opened fully, returning it to the crack it had once been. Turning around, I found we were stood in a large bedroom. Not Lady Grey’s, I could tell that much. It seemed like a child’s room if anything.

“Let’s go.” Garrett whispered, checking through the keyhole of a door that the hallway after it was clear, before sliding through it. I followed soon after, and we navigated the house (in which time we found the two Montonessi paintings) until we found Grey’s master bedroom.

“This room is as big as The Burrick!” I marvelled, looking around at the Japanese blossom covered walls and crocheted bedspread.

“Shh!” Only now, as I glanced over at the thief, did I notice the figure lying in the king sized four poster bed. How I didn’t see her earlier, I have no clue. Crouching, Garrett crept over to the side of the bed, reaching out for the hand laying just at the edge. There I saw the Sparkled Band.

Like the Master Thief he is, he slipped the ring carefully from her middle finger, and slid it into one of the pouches on this hip.

“That was a lot easier than I thought it would be.” I said, eyes warily watching Lady Grey in fear of her suddenly turning and yelling the word both of us secretly feared to hear.

After finally making it back to the child’s room we started in, we readied to leave.

“There has to be something we’ve missed, surely?” It didn’t seem to add up; with what we’d just stolen, there had to be a bigger catch than the fact she never took off the ring. However, as soon as we reached the window on the other side of the room, we heard a voice.

“Who are you and what do you want?”


	5. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Besides the characters or songs I have mentioned that do not belong to the Thief Game (and are not either reader or Mordred) are based off of actual people. I'm not creative when it comes to humans, so work with me people.
> 
> Also, Genderbent Matt Sheeran. Because I needed a female friend that wasn't Xiao or the Queen of Beggars.

When I said that the room we were in was a child’s room, I suppose I didn’t specify that I didn’t mean a child Mordred’s age. I meant a child about seventeen years old – more of an adolescent than a child. The two of us turned slowly, to see a blonde head on a thin, hourglass body. On her body was a tight nightgown, which revealed perhaps a little _too_ much skin (though that was just me). She had tiny thighs and bony arms, but in her petite hands she held a knife, one that she seemed to know how to use… well. Cautiously, I took a step forward with my hands up, deciding I would attempt coaxing her away from the blade in her hands. Immediately, however, she pointed the tip at me, her body rigid.

“Come any closer and I’ll run you through.” My eyes widened. She was at least 5 inches shorter and half my size in width, surely she couldn’t be in the situation to make such a threat? Her eyes fluttered from me to Garrett, who was still a full pace behind, and her face melted into a ‘seductive’ smirk.

“Well, who are you?” It wasn’t said in a threatening manner; in fact, she almost sounded wistful as she passed me, shoving the knife into my hands. I could only be thankful she gave me the end with the handle. I spun, to see my companion hastily backing towards the window, retreating at the sight of this girl – who was previously wielding a weapon – coming towards him.

“You’re a good looking guy, I have to say.” I don’t know why, but that simple sentence made my blood boil. ‘Stop being protective; he’s not yours’ For once, I ignored my subconscious. Mine or not, she had no right to talk to Garrett as she was. The poor man seemed confused enough with the way she was stood before him, bent forward and her elbows pressed together (which gave him a perfect view of her oversized chest), never mind all of this. She only made it worse by continuing.

“The things I could do with you.” I shivered, disgusted by the way this girl was speaking. She had to be a decade younger than me and was honestly thinking of such... activities. To add to that, pitiful Garrett was probably near old enough to be her father. The blonde’s hand reached out from where it was resting on her leg, and I saw the thief stiffen as he realised she was about to touch him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” My mouth moved of its own accord, and the girl (I’m guessing it was Ursula, Lady Grey’s daughter) snapped around as though she had completely forgotten my presence.

“Oh? And why is that?” Finally; something I could use to pick fun out of her.

“If I know Garrett, and _oh_ I do,” emphasis on oh, “I know he’s not a touchy-feely kind of person. Especially not to little girls like you, dear.” Score! Her eyes narrowed as she took a step away from Garrett.

“Excuse me?”

“No, darling, excuse me. We have to go.” Satisfied, I skipped around Ursula, and opened the window again, hearing my companion follow me out.

“Guards!” Oh no, “Guards! Thieves!”

“Time to leave.” Garrett hissed, and I didn’t bother to wait and agree with him. We sprinted across the grounds for all our lives were worth, and we reached the wall of the house over just as the Watch dog was let off its chain. With a hand from Garrett, we were up over the wall and out of sight by the time the dog was at the other end of the garden.

***

“Woo! What a rush that was.” I yelled, undeterred by the fact it was two in the morning, and slumped onto Basso’s rickety wooden bed.

“Mhmm.” Garrett didn’t seem too pleased, but either way sat beside me, “Where’s Basso?”

Of course I had noticed the box man’s absence earlier; I just hadn’t bothered to say anything.

“Pass.” I replied, “Right now, I couldn’t care less, either.” Suddenly winded, I flopped down onto my back, almost hitting the thief next to me as I flung out my arms.

“What’s this?” Standing up, Garrett prowled over to Basso’s desk, reminding me even more of how much like a cat he is, and picked up an old matchbox.

“Why is he on the roof?”

“What?” Now at attention, I stood beside who I could finally consider a friend (which is strange for me) as he passed me the box. It said: ‘Meet me on the roof if I’m not back. –B’ Suddenly, Garrett’s question seemed extremely logical.

“Best thing to do is go up and find out.” I spoke, placing the matchbox down on the countertop. I was already stepping across the room when I heard Garrett say:

“I still don’t understand.”

“Well then, let’s go ask him, dummy.” With that, the two of us climbed to the roof of The Burrick. It never actually crossed my mind exactly _how_ Basso got up there, never mind what he was doing.

Apparently, match maker was his new game.

“By the Gods, Basso…” Lying atop the roof in direction of the clock tower, was a mat/blanket, along with a bottle of his best wine (which he knows I adore) and a gramophone playing my favourite record.

“What..?” Garrett trailed off as we approached the little ‘love nest’ – as I knew Basso would call it.

“It’s a clear night.” I said, my voice suddenly hushed for reasons I know not, “You ever done stargazing before?”

“Huh?” The thief looked genuinely confused; did he not know what stargazing was?

“It’s where you lie beneath the stars and try to find constellations.” I was already kneeling down on the mat as I spoke; only now focusing on the record. Edward, the only other person I could truly call a friend in The City, was not only a good mannered member of the Watch (which is hard enough to come by) he was also an incredible singer. By my request, he had sung and recorded multiple songs he had written, which I had fallen in love with over the years. The song playing now was one of my favourites: ‘Give me love’.

Basso was definitely playing match maker.

Garrett sat next to me as I leant back on the mat, my arms under my head like a pillow.

“When’s your birthday?”

“Huh?”

“When’s your birthday?” I repeated nonchalantly. It might have sounded like a ridiculous question, but he had to be patient.

“February twenty eighth?”

“You don’t sound so sure of that.” Laughing, I looked up at him with a raised brow.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, so… Pisces.” I muttered to myself, “That’s strange.”

“What’s wrong?” I didn’t know if it was just me, or if Garrett actually sounded interested.

“Pisces are usually great with people. But from what I’ve heard from Basso, you’re a bit of a loner.” Grunt.

“Very mature response, Garrett.” Grinning, I hummed along to the tune playing on the gramophone, before pointing up to the North Star directly above us.

“See that star?” He hm’d, and I moved my arm to point to the South West of the star, tracing a sideways ‘V’ with my finger.

“Those stars there,” Sitting up so he could see where I was looking, I placed my face what I now suppose was extremely close to his, “that’s the Zodiac sign for Pisces.”

“And what does that mean?” I directed my glance towards Garrett, and saw him staring in a wonder almost equivalent to Mordred’s at the night sky. To say he was a grown man, he sometimes acted like a nine year old. ‘And it’s down right adorable!’ That wasn’t my subconscious, for sure. I’d decided to call her ‘My Angel’ long ago, and she hadn’t surfaced for ten years, until now. ‘Really, now? You shouldn’t be here.’ My subconscious and Angel dove into a full blown argument in my head as I explained Zodiacs to curious thirty-going-on-nine year old Garrett.

“And it all depends on when we were born. I’m a Scorpio,” I directed to myself to prove my point, “Mordred’s a Cancer, and you’re a Pisces.”

“How does that work?” He asked.

“Don’t ask me, Garrett.” I replied, lying back on the mat again. I was surprised when Garrett looked at me, then leant back and laid beside me. We sat in silence for a while – one that wasn’t uncomfortable, but companionable – before my favourite song of the record began to play.

“When your legs don’t work like they used to before, and I can’t sweep you off of your feet…” Ed’s voice continued to serenade us through the sweet silence, and I actually considered staying up here with Garrett for the rest of the night. Then, he spoke up.

“About tonight; with the girl-” He seemed almost hesitant to continue, so I did for him.

“Ursula? Yeah, that sucked.”

“No, I mean…” I looked over as he trailed off again to find him nibbling on his bottom lip.

‘Oh damn.’

Oh damn didn’t cover it. Averting my eyes, I waited for him to think over what he was to say. My Angel was doing front flips, while my subconscious looked disapprovingly over her ‘Charting Stars’ hardback.

“What did she mean?” Garrett’s voice interrupted my thoughts, and I glanced over again to find him staring at me, a sincerely curious expression on his face. Did he mean when Ursula was attempting to seduce him? Did he honestly not know?

“Oh, Garrett, you’re so innocent!” Slapping him on the arm, I laughed, trying to make a joke out of the situation. Garrett just hummed.

“What?” My smile, which was still plastered on my lips, faded as I saw him looking anywhere but me. Was he not joking?

Then it clicked.

“You’re a _virgin_?!” The word sounded like sin as it spilled from my mouth; this man, a virgin, and apparently completely oblivious to the world of anything indicating sexuality. A cough was all I got as response.

“No. No you’re kidding.” He had to be. Really, he had to be, “There’s no way.” My mind was simply ceasing to function, the concept so unbelievable it was breaking down my brain. Of all people, Garrett was the innocent one of the group. Though it scared me, I was sure even Mordred had picked up a thing or two at the market. How?

“Garrett… how? You’re – how old are you?”

“Thirty five.” He muttered. The poor guy almost sounded ashamed; was I pushing him too hard?

“You’re thirty-five years old and haven’t been with a girl yet? I mean come on. As much as I hate to admit, Ursula wasn’t wrong when she said you’re a good looking guy.” I was digging my grave here, but instead of stopping, I kept going deeper, “I heard plenty of women calling you attractive in your wanted posters today, and that looks nothing like you! How are you _possibly_ a virgin?” Once I was finished, I looked over at the thief to find him with his eyes down, hood draped so I could barely see his face. Oh no.

“Hey, look, rant over. Instead, let’s toast to you.” I grasped the forgotten bottle of wine from behind me as he looked up.

“To Garrett: a thirty odd year old virgin, who seems to have no need of worldly pleasures.” With that, I held the bottle to my lips and tipped, feeling the sour liquid pour down my throat.

“Why don’t you take it?” I almost spat out my wine.

“ _What_?!” I cried, after finishing choking on the mouthful of rosé I tried so hard to keep down.

“If you’re so surprised, why don’t you take my virginity?” Only now did I notice how close his face was to mine, and felt my face heat.

“I uhh… um.” My head seemed incapable of thinking up speech as I looked him in his heterochromian eyes. Instead, my subconscious and Angel were having another fight in my imagination. ‘Kiss him!’ ‘No, don’t. You can’t trust him.’ ‘Oh, what can one kiss hurt?’ Eventually, my Angel won, and I was leaning forward without my own knowledge. At that moment, I heard Ed in the background sing:

“We found love right where we are.” And the song was over.

I still don’t know why, but I chose then to look up over Garrett’s broad shoulder…

  
 

And saw my son sat on the edge of the roof.


	6. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Besides the characters or songs I have mentioned that do not belong to the Thief Game (and are not either reader or Mordred) are based off of actual people. I'm not creative when it comes to humans, so work with me people.
> 
> Also, Genderbent Matt Sheeran. Because I needed a female friend that wasn't Xiao or the Queen of Beggars.

“Mordred!”

Garrett’s head jerked backwards when I cried out, mortified as I wondered just how long Mordred had been perched there, and how much he knew. With a face that said ‘definition of innocence’, he asked:

“What are you doing up here?” How am I supposed to answer that; having a romantic evening with the Master Thief? I don’t think so.

“Nothing, sweetie. We were… stargazing.” Nice save, (Name), “I’ll be down in a minute – do you know where Basso is?”

“He’s where he always is silly!” Mordred giggled with a child-like charm only he could pull off, before slipping off the edge of the roof to climb back down.

Garrett, who hadn’t turned to face the boy at all, physically relaxed; his shoulders slumped and he let out a breath.

“Well…” I began, hoping he had some means of continuing.

“Hm.” Obviously not. Stopping the record behind me, which I had almost forgotten was playing, I stood.

“Let’s just go talk to Basso.”

“Good plan.” I smiled. Garrett’s witty remarks might be unusual to most people, but to me they were extremely amusing. Perhaps I’m just strange.

  Back downstairs, Mordred and Basso were lounging in the prior’s office. The fence’s knowing smile grew into a full blown grin as we entered, and I had to force myself not to go and wipe it off. It didn’t help when, as soon as I stood beside him, he whispered,

“You kissed him yet?”

“Basso!” Slapping him on the shoulder, I felt my face heat as he laughed. Why is past me; a week ago I would have laughed with him.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Mordred halted any further harm coming to Basso as he started jumping at my feet, “Did you find any pretty things?”

That chuckle again. I was growing to love and hate it at the same time – a dangerous combination. Before I could respond to Mordred’s prodding and laughing, a voice behind me spoke,

“I did.” How does he do that? Spinning around in surprise, I steadied myself on his shoulders, letting go immediately when he visibly stiffened.

“You need to not do that.” I muttered, as he dug into a pouch strapped to his left leg. ‘Mhm’ was all I got back.

“Oh, pretty!” Raising my head, I looked at the indeed pretty trinket held on his fingertips. It was a broach, no bigger than the palm of his hand, solid gold and shaped like a fish (well, more of a whale). In the bevelled hole where the eye should have been, a turquoise gem similar to Garrett’s right eye glinted gracefully, letting off whatever dull light that was thrown at it like it were a ray of sun. The bottom was studded with purple jewels, which led up to where the tail was tipped with silver. The final feat was the spout of water shooting from the whale’s head, flecked with sapphires and diamonds both.

“It’ll fetch a pretty penny too.” I giggled as Garrett spun overdramatically when Basso reached out to take the broach, manoeuvring his feet to avoid the large mass of man coming at him.

“I don’t think so. You can have the rest of the things we found Basso, but this is mine.” I wasn’t particularly paying attention to Garrett; instead I was watching Mordred marvel at the trinket in the thief’s hand, eyes wide as his smile. A smile graced my lips as he lifted his own hand, to grip the broach and pull it from Garrett’s grasp. The aforementioned, who had been staring Basso down as he whined, seemed alerted by the sudden loss of weight in his hand, and looked down in alarm. Even now, I don’t know what he thought as he looked down at Mordred, but his frightened expression became the neutral mask once more, the only exception being a thin smile.

“As fun as this is,” Basso stopped as the thief began walking towards me, “we have training to do.”

Training; I’d almost forgot. Getting to my feet, I waved at Mordred – though he wasn’t looking anyway – and followed Garrett up the stairs.

“We’ll start with rope climbing.” Oh no. My face must have given away my fear as my stomach dropped, because the corners of his lips curled, “Those gloves should help you.”

Subconsciously, I looked down at my hands, where the black leather wrapped securely around them, clipping off at my fingers. He was right in a sense; they would stop me from getting rope burn at least.

“Fine. What first?”

“First we’ll start small.” Good plan, Garrett. The thief pulled an arrow from his quiver, and like earlier there was a thud as he embedded it into a post about 20 feet above us with his bow.

“Did you make that?” I asked the question before I could register it. Garrett jumped, looking over as he pressed a button the bow to fold it over before placing it on his back again.

“Yes.”

“It’s amazing.” Why I felt to praise him, I didn’t know. But I did know I wasn’t lying when I said his bow was amazing – it must have taken him months to design and build it, and it worked incredibly well too!

“Thank you.” He sounded almost awkward as he accepted my compliment. Aw, Garrett can’t accept praise. ‘That’s so cute!’ My Angel was prancing around in her prettiest, pinkest dress, clapping her hands giddily. Meanwhile, my subconscious was stood in her usual blouse and grey skirt, pinching her nose. I felt like doing the same.

“Ready?” Nodding, I braced myself, hands already reaching up as far as they could.

“Start with a jump. You’ll go farther.” I did as I was told, hopping up and grabbing the rope with a grip so tight my knuckles whitened. I was already struggling to pull myself up, and Garrett’s voice in my head made it worse.

“Don’t just focus on your arms. Distribute your attention to the rest of your body, and it’ll help you.”

“I can’t focus when you keep talking!” My right arm slacked as I reached up with my left, grabbing higher on the rope after successfully holding my chin up level with my hands.

“I’m trying to help you.”

“Well you aren’t!” Silence ensued until I dropped from the rope, arms aching and pulse pounding against my wrists. Since I was only about two feet off the ground, I didn’t injure myself, but lost my balance as I landed back on the floor. Falling backwards, I expected to hit the ground with a thump, but instead ended up in strong, thin arms.

“Clearly I wasn’t.” I felt slightly guilty because of the way he said it. ‘Well you should; you didn’t have to snap at him like that.’ Clearly, my Angel was mad at me, and my subconscious was silently agreeing with her.

“I’m sorry Garrett.” I whispered, voice smaller than I’d wished, “I’m just… stubborn.” I’m pretty sure I’d heard Basso call me it enough to see now what he meant. Garrett didn’t seem to mind I was still leant against him as he replied, his own voice soft.

“Well so am I, so…” He trailed off, and I suddenly felt the need to relax and accept the fact he wasn’t letting go of me. I was about to, when he interrupted my thoughts.

“You wanna try again?”

“Nah.” I leant back, smiling at the exasperated sigh I heard from him.

“You've only tried once, (Name),” I shivered as he said my name, the sound unusual but not wrong, “Come on.”

I was about to groan when I heard snickering, and looked over the thief’s shoulder to see Basso and Mordred peeking up through one of the slim windows. I didn’t bother to ask how they reached the window (they were most likely stood on boxes) and instead glared daggers at them past Garrett’s hood. They just laughed harder, though I doubt Mordred knew why they were laughing anyway.

“You don’t look very intimidating with a guy’s arms around you, (Nickname)!” Garrett jumped, his arms dropping away from me as he stepped aside. Immediately, I missed the warmth his body gave me. ‘It’s just not fair!’ My Angel cried, my subconscious agreeing with a mutter that sounded like ‘He really is a big old meanie.’ I must have been sick; my subconscious would never, under _any_ circumstance, say that willingly.

“Alright… I’ll try again.” Remembering what Garrett said, I leapt before gripping the rope, and focused on not leaving all the work to my arms. I made it five feet this time, before I had to drop again.

“You’re a fast learner.” I heard the thief mutter, and bobbed my head in acknowledgement before trying again. Slowly, I was inching my way up the rope with every try. It must have been at least two hours of climbing, watching demonstrations, constant awkward touching as he righted me and climbing again until Garrett decided it was enough for the day.

“You’re doing very well.” He noted as I flopped on the floor beside where he stood, my whole body overly exerted, “By the end of tomorrow you’ll reach the end of that rope.”

“Woo!” I cried, rolling over onto my back as he chuckled. Exceptionally giddy, I smiled up at Garrett as he sat next to my head, legs crossed. My excitement wasn’t cut off when I thought of Mordred, as my brain reminded me Basso had taken him to bed an hour and a quarter ago. He probably told us he was earlier, but I was too busy concentrating to notice.

“You better get some sleep before Mordred wakes up and starts plaguing you again.” He wasn't wrong. Mordred had probably already slept for nearly two hours, and I hadn't had an adequate nights rest last night anyway.

“Yeah, I should.” I sat up so I was level with him, looking him in the eyes as I smiled, “Thanks for agreeing to teach me… And about earlier-”

“Already forgotten. I won’t talk about it if you don’t.” I nodded, shocked Garrett would be so sensitive as to brush off such a subject. I could only hope we were thinking of the same moment of our eventful evening. Standing, I stretched, muttering a ‘Good night’ as I shambled over to the Burrick. Before I reached the door, I heard Garrett chuckle going back down the steps to Basso’s domain, along with the words: “Strange girl.”

 

 

That night I slept with a smile on my face.


	7. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

A month later I was still being trained. Whether it was in climbing, fighting, or simply practicing my stealth, there was a lesson every night. My personal relationship with Garrett had gotten better, too, and I finally felt like he trusted me. He’d not spoken about Ursula or the moments after that since the day, and I respected him for that, but it didn’t stop me thinking about it. My dreams had gotten very… ambitious in the past week; this morning I woke in a cold sweat after a dream of skilled hands and lips running over me, the flash of blue that I saw just before waking the only clue on who it could possibly be. For hours, my subconscious scolded me and my brain, while my Angel seemed incapable of any kind of speech or movement, paralysed in her fluffy pyjamas and bed head. In the matter of sleep, Mordred was getting better: sleeping longer and actually going to bed when he was told. In the three years he could be held accountable for refusing to sleep he chose then to try and behave. Maybe Garrett wasn’t a large impact on just my life.

  As I stepped down into Basso’s lair, I heard a voice that was different to the ones I had heard in the past month. I was about to ask whom the voice belonged to, when I saw a familiar, freckled, smiling face.

“Edward!” I cried, jumping forward to grip onto my old friend, complete with Watch uniform, “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t visit my friend?” His arms wrapped around me in a companionable hug, and he continued, “But Basso said he needed my sister’s help, so I decided to ‘escort’ her-”

“ _(Nickname)!_ ” I froze when arms engulfed me as soon as Ed let go, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

“Mat! Hi.” Laughing, I escaped the death grip to hold Ed’s sister, Matilda, at arm’s length.

“How _are_ you,  (Nickname)?” Matilda asked, checking me over as her hands gripped my shoulders, “I haven’t seen you in years.”

“I’m okay, Matilda.” Like her brother, Mat was petite and sweet, a strange attitude to go with her fiery red hair. The statement Ed had made seconds before finally sunk into my brain, and I tried to figure out what it meant, "Basso needs you?"

“Mhm.” Mat’s smile widened, panic shooting through me at the mischievous look in her eyes, “We’re going to a ball, and you need to look your best!” A ball? This was news to me. I was about to turn to Basso and ask for an explanation, when Mat continued.

“And your new friend’s going as well - that’s what we need Ed for.” I looked over at Ed, who seemed just as surprised as me. My new friend. Surely she couldn’t be saying _Garrett_ , of all people, was going to a ball. Gaze shifting to Basso, I saw him already poised to avoid an attack.

“Look, my sources tell me there’s some really expensive necklace on display tonight, and-” He didn’t have to finish.

“Let me guess: you want me and Garrett to go get it?”

“Really, I’m sure Garrett is more than capable of doing it himself.” Seeing my eyes narrow, he quickly added, “But it’s on public display and I doubt he’d go into a crowd like that himself.”

“So I’m there for sentimental reasons?” I crossed my arms, raising a brow as I leant against the fence’s desk.

“Well, yeah, and I’m sure it’ll be good training for you too; seeing how much Garrett can really do.” He had a point there, I had to admit. In the time I’d known the Master Thief, I’d never been given reason to understand his title. We’d only been on simple jobs together, so I was never shown what he was truly capable of in his art. This was as good an opportunity as ever.

“Fine; I’ll do it.”

“Eek!” Matilda’s happy shriek shocked me, and I was still wide eyed as she pulled me up the stairs to my room, yelling “Makeover!”

   What had I done?

An hour and a half later I was once again stood in Basso’s office, staring at the garment he was holding up.

“I am not wearing that.” For an hour, I had been forced to sit still in a cooling tub as Mat scrubbed, shaved, plucked and poked at me. I stood in a white robe with my arms pressed haughtily against my chest, pouting at the dress which hung in front of my face.

“Come on, (Nickname). It’s not that bad.”

“I refuse to wear it.” A sigh. I was trying not to be difficult, but I really did hate the dress. It wasn’t that it was too short, or too bright, or too not me. There was just something about it that didn’t sit right with me. The dress itself was actually quite beautiful, with a white bodice with a blue sequined covering where the breasts sit. On the left hip lay a sky blue flower, a million ruffled layers emanating from the bottom petals. If I hadn’t known better, I’d say the flower was some kind of rose, but it wasn’t.

It was a blue poppy.

I didn’t know exactly _why_ I didn’t like the dress, but I knew that every time I looked at the poppy, a foreboding chill fled down my spine.

“(Nickname), you have to. You agreed to do this, and I spent good money on having this made.”

“Are you telling me you bought the dress before I agreed?” The thought enraged me for reasons I still know not, and I was about to stand and teach the box man a lesson when I heard a confused muttering behind me.

“What on Earth is that?”

“Thank you!” My outburst seemed to have shocked the thief, as when I turned around he had a surprised look on his face, eyebrows nearly half way up his forehead.

“Ana’s dress.” I giggled as Garrett jumped almost a foot off the ground, turning his head to Mat next to him, who was looking at the dress wistfully.

“If you love it so much, you wear it. It’d suit you better than it would me.” Though Mat wearing the dress would spoil the whole purpose of the design – which I’m ninety nine per cent sure Basso picked out personally – I doubted I was wrong when I said it would look nicer on her. Matilda had a lovely figure for a lady her age, and compared to my post-Mordred body, I would bet my life the dress would suit her better.

“Is the poppy there on purpose?” Garrett’s voice broke me from my thoughts, and I lifted my gaze to see him looking at the garment quizzically.

Basso laughed, “Maybe, maybe not.”

 I sighed; I hoped Garrett wasn’t trying to bite off more than he could chew. Showing interest might really drag him into this, and then what?

“Of course we have a suit for you too, Garrett.”

“Pardon?” This time my giggle was a full blown laugh, and I almost doubled over at the expression in his eyes as he returned them to Mat. I didn’t bother to try and compose myself as he glared at me, but when I finally calmed I walked to pat him on the shoulder, a gesture he probably wouldn’t have been okay with had I been Mat or Ed.

“Welcome to my world.” He grimaced at my words, and it took most of my strength not to grin.

“I don’t think I’m going to like it much.” ‘You aren’t wrong, my friend.’ My subconscious sighed, shaking her head as my Angel giggled. ‘I think the dress is beautiful!’ ‘You would.’ An argument spiked in my imagination, and I had to focus hard just to listen to the conversation that was going on outside my head.

“We’ll explain later.” It took me a moment to realise Basso was speaking and my hand was still on Garrett’s shoulder, which I quickly removed, “Just let Ed sort you out, and Mat and I’ll try to get (Nickname) in this dress.”

“I’ll put on that dress as soon as Mordred steps down here with his hair brushed.” Well done, Ana, you just doomed yourself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mat grin, and I barely had time to think as Mordred suddenly tumbled down the steps. His hair was not only brushed, but washed and trimmed.

“You were saying?”

Mat was still tweaking the ruffles of my dress, Basso trying to persuade me into a pair of heels (which were only really an inch tall, but still) when Ed’s head popped around the corner.

“He’s ready.”

“Really? You actually got him into it?” Ed’s grin faded slightly, and his brows furrowed.

“Under one condition.”

“What condition?” Basso’s voice was weary as he stepped away from me, turning to look at Ed properly. The Watchman sighed.

“He wouldn’t wear the shoes.” ‘Who does that sound like?’ My subconscious scolded, my Angel giggling at the thought of Garrett refusing to wear real shoes for once.

“What?” Ed’s head disappeared, and after what sounded like a hesitant shuffling, Garrett stepped down into the room. I had to bite my lip hard to stop from howling with laughter. At the entrance of Basso’s lair, stood a man I barely recognised, kohl gone from his eyes and usual leather harness replaced with a black waistcoat. My eyes skimmed down the suit pants that clung at the ankles instead of flaring out, to see his old boots still on his feet. That’s what made me lose it.

“Oh my Gods, Garrett, you look fabulous!” I cried, eyes closing tight shut as I tried to breathe between each huff of laughter. If I had been more considerate, I would have noticed the way Garrett flinched and lowered his eyes, and Basso’s hand on the back of my head would have made more sense.

“What was that for?”

“You can’t laugh at him; it’s not like you’re any better! At least he’ll seem slightly normal in boots.” I was about to retort with something snappy, when Mordred came down the stairs again, this time dressed in a black shirt and trousers. Millie, Basso’s most trusted waitress and someone my son considered a friend, followed with an awkward smile on her face. She seemed ready to apologize, when Mordred pointed at Garrett and asked:

“Who’s that?” Garrett’s tense shoulders sunk, and my feelings of anger numbed as I saw the look on his face. He seemed beaten and vulnerable, something I wasn’t used to him being, and it scared me.

“It’s Garrett, Mordred, don’t be silly.” I scolded, stepping across the room to place my hands firmly on my mentor’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry Garrett. You look great, really.” The thief’s gaze lifted to mine, and I smiled as his eyes glinted.

“So…” I let go of Garrett’s shoulders, waiting to see if he would continue. His wounded expression vanished as he grinned, “Why are we doing this again?”


	8. A Grand Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Besides the characters or songs I have mentioned that do not belong to the Thief Game (and are not either reader or Mordred) are based off of actual people. I'm not creative when it comes to humans, so work with me people.
> 
> Also, Genderbent Matt Sheeran. Because I needed a female friend that wasn't Xiao or the Queen of Beggars.
> 
> (BTDubbs Garrett gets OOC in this chapter, just because I can't make Garrett romantic and 'Garrett' at the same time.)

By seven thirty we were in a large ballroom in Auldale, music and people surrounding us. Mordred was beside himself, dancing around giddily in his polished pointed-toe shoes, the whale broach glinting against his chest. I hadn’t mentioned before, but when I had woken the morning after my first training session, I found the broach still lying on the counter. With it, was a note written in beautiful cursive, saying ‘For Mordred. He seemed to like it more than I did.’ There was no mistaking who the note was from, even without the ‘~G’ in the bottom right-hand corner. My son was ecstatic when I woke him saying I had a present for him. He’d worn it whenever he had the chance, though he’d never said anything to the thief that had left it for him. Perhaps his good behaviour was his way of saying thank you. Speaking of Garrett, he didn’t seem as pleased as Mordred did about being in such a large crowd, and who could blame him? After so long without company, hiding from everyone for his own safety, it must have been wearing him down. The biggest shock I’d had so far was when he plucked a glass of whiskey off a tray a passing servant was carrying, swallowing it all in one hesitant gulp.

“I didn’t know you drink.” I’d whispered, one brow raised at his nervous expression.

“I don’t.” He’d replied as his eyes suddenly flickered towards a large gentleman, honing in on a rather familiar looking pocket watch. Mat and Ed stood with the three of us. Ed was here on official Watch business, so was wearing the familiar grey uniform, but Mat looked gorgeous in a pastel purple ball gown, complete with sequins stitched strategically around the skirts and bodice. It made me jealous, as she always had. ‘But you look _beautiful_!’ My Angel gushed, her own white and gold tutu flouncing as she clapped her hands and jumped. I looked mentally to my subconscious for help, but she seemed in total agreement as she nodded solemnly, the silver fishtail she wore shining against the bright chandelier lights. Despite the efforts the two of them made to reassure me, I found myself absent mindedly fixing my hair or playing with the ruffles of my skirt, though I didn’t realise until long fingers wrapped around my wrist, halting the actions.

“You look fine.” The hushed voice next to my ear soothed me, and I relaxed, analyzing the top of Garrett’s hand. Near the centre of the back of his palm lay a thin, white scar, which I was tempted to reach out and touch. However, something nagged in the back of my mind that it would be a bad idea, so I let my free hand drop to my side. Instead I focused on replying to what he had said.

“You think so?” Garrett’s chuckle against my neck quickly weakened my resolve, and when his hand moved from my wrist to cling to my waist, I almost melted. Even without imagining it, I could feel my subconscious’ glare burning through me, and I could hear my Angel’s happy cheers.

“I know so.” The thief was so close now I could _feel_ the movement of his mouth as he spoke, lips grazing the outer lobe of my ear. It took most of my will not to shiver. I was about to thank him and pull away, when a plump lady ran towards us with an ear-splitting yet ladylike smile gracing her painted lips, arms out wide as she cried out happily.

“Oh, what a darling couple; you two are just perfect together!” I was about to correct the woman, when another call interrupted me.

“Agatha, dear, what are you doing?”

“Oh, Ursula, Ethel, aren’t these two beautiful?” I was finding Agatha and her friends rather intimidating, and I hadn’t noticed I was slowly coming closer to Garrett until I felt his other hand grab mine in support. Relief seeped into me as Mordred decided then to show up, yelling something along the lines of “Mommy, they have a chocolate fountain!”

“What an _adorable_ child!” The brunette woman of the group – I think she was Ethel – gushed, and looked up to us again as the other two cooed over Mordred, “He looks just like his father.” My face heated as Garrett chuckled again, attempting to sound calmer than he really was.

“Thank you,” He replied, “but I’m not the father, and… we aren’t a couple.” He decided then to release me, and I tried not to show that I missed the warmth of his arms. No, I hunched my shoulders and put on the most innocent smile I could muster.

“Oh but dear, you two look lovely together. Have you not even considered-?”

“Agatha, leave them be. I’m sorry sir, miss; she can be quite excitable.” Ethel apologized, trying to pull her friend away from my son. I heard an ‘Hmph’ that most definitely wasn’t Agatha, and looked up to the final lady of the trio. There, in a skin tight pearl coloured dress, stood Ursula Grey. From the corner of my eye, I watched her, seeing her gaze flicker from Ethel to Garrett and back again… multiple times. Did she recognise him? No, she couldn’t; I barely recognised him as he stepped into Basso’s room back at the Burrick, and I had seen him every night for a month. Surely she couldn’t know this was the thief she had caught in her room nearly five weeks ago? Perhaps she wouldn’t have known if Mat hadn’t come up at that exact moment.

(Nickname), Mordred, Garrett! Are you all having fun?” As Mordred began to babble on about his amazing chocolate fountain, a soft gasp reached my ears, and my gaze flitted over to Ursula to find her staring in shock at Garrett. ‘Oh no.’ Oh no indeed, Angel. If I knew one thing, it was that we had to leave before she could utter the word I dreaded so.

“Hey, Mordred, why don’t you show us this precious chocolate fountain of yours?” He was gone by the words ‘chocolate fountain’. I smiled victoriously; Mordred was always a good scapegoat.

“If you’ll excuse us.” I said, trying to look as sweet and apologetic as possible as I gripped Garrett’s forearm to pull him away. I kept hold of his arm, ready to pull him away from Mordred and Mat. The first thing I wanted was to avoid confrontation from Ursula, and since she probably knew exactly where the fountain was – right in the centre of the horseshoe set tables that acted as a food court – we had to stay clear of that area. Reaching an alcove which led to a balcony outside, I tugged hard, pulling Garrett out of the group’s line of sight and into the cold air.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, finally pulling himself from my grip.

“Saving our asses.” I snapped back, “She knows who we are, Garrett; she knows your name. We need to keep away from her.”

“And exactly whose fault is it she knows my name?” Guiltily, I looked down, eyes tracing the cracks in the stone beneath my feet. A sigh reached my ears, and my gaze lifted to look the thief in the eye.

“We should never have agreed to this.”

“Well, technically you didn’t.” I muttered, sticking my tongue out at the half hearted glare he threw at me. His face softened, and a heavy silence ensued as I thought of what to say.

“I’m sorry.” Garrett seemed confused as he looked to me again, eyebrows rising.

“What for?”

“Pulling you into this in the first place, then pretty much jeopardizing the mission with my big mouth.” I heard him scoff, and flinched as one hand went to grab my chin.

“Don’t be dramatic; you haven’t jeopardized anything.” I almost jumped as his fingers moved from my jaw to my cheek, “What difference will she make? I doubt she’s sharp enough to get anyone to believe her.” Despite how miserable I felt, Garrett’s blunt statement made me laugh. Who knew Garrett would make such an awful comment? His hate spiked my own, and I ended up saying:

“Well, yeah, and I doubt anyone focuses on what she’s saying anyway. You think she’s ever worn something that didn’t either show skin or stick to it?” A laugh cut through my own; one that shot something through me as I looked at the thief. It wasn’t his usual discreet chuckle, but a deep, bold laugh that didn’t suit his character.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that before.” I smiled, seeing his eyes glint against the dim light of the gas lanterns, which hung at the door.

“I usually don’t have much to laugh about.”

“Pfft. You pessimist!” I laughed again, struggling to balance myself in the white heels I wore.

“You’re extremely rude, you know that?” Even with the comment, he reached out to grab me, obviously seeing me shaking, “At least Mordred isn’t like you.”

“Now that was inappropriate.” I huffed, still winded from the fit of giggles I had been sent into. If I hadn’t been so distracted, I would have noticed Garrett’s face soften, and the smile that spread over his lips, “And you’re rude as well. You’ve just outright insulted me, and a month ago I remember you calling me strange behind my back.”

“I wasn’t wrong.”

“That still doesn’t make it a nice thing to do.” I pouted, slouching over so the bodice of my dress crumpled at the waist. Garrett seemed to notice.

“You know, that dress has been through more tonight than you have.” A hand reached out towards my waist, and I almost jerked away, until I realised his fingers were reaching out to fiddle with the poppy on my hip.

“Basso did this on purpose.”

“But only he, you and I understand.” I whispered, hoping my quiet voice wouldn’t be heard over the still audible din of the ball room. My prayers were in vain.

“You know about the primal?” Shock wouldn’t cover the emotion I heard in his voice – it sounded almost desperate.

“I’ve had to live with it for five years; I think I’m entitled to knowing.” Garrett’s whole body slacked in what felt like defeat, he sighed.

“So you know about Erin-”

“Because of the primal? Mhm.” My own hand began to absentmindedly play with one of the petals, and I brushed against one of Garrett’s lingering fingers, “She went through a lot, for someone her age.” ‘Hm’ was my only response.

“Garrett.” I whispered, hand going from the petal to his cheek, lifting his face to look at me, “What’s wrong?”

“I connected you had something to do with the primal when I met you, but I’d hoped to protect you from what it can do, because I couldn’t with her. From what I’ve heard from you, you probably know more than I do.” He sighed, eyes falling to the ground again.

“I don’t need protecting. Thirteen years on my own, and eight of those with a child, has toughened me up a bit.” Instead of trying to get Garrett to look up at me again, I ducked to meet his eyes, which were still trained on the floor. He flinched away as my face came closer to his, eyes wide and unnerving. Reaching up with my other hand, I rested both palms on his, stilling his movements.

“Garrett?” My mind flitted back to that night on the roof as Garrett hesitated, though it was his turn to stutter and panic. I didn’t notice how close the two of us were until our noses touched, and I felt my face warm considerably. Fighting against the temptation of looking over his shoulder, hoping I would see Mordred there like before, I shut my eyes tight and waited for him to pull back – waited to be disappointed.

The kiss came as a shock.


	9. The Soul Eater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Besides the characters or songs I have mentioned that do not belong to the Thief Game (and are not either reader or Mordred) are based off of actual people. I'm not creative when it comes to humans, so work with me people.
> 
> Also, Genderbent Matt Sheeran. Because I needed a female friend that wasn't Xiao or the Queen of Beggars.
> 
> (Monty Python reference in this chapter. Who can guess what?)

‘Well, this is new.’

I mentally chided my subconscious as Garrett’s arms snaked gently around my waist, pulling me close to him. At first, I didn’t know how to respond to the kiss, and simply opened my eyes to look at his furrowed brows. I was suddenly worried I was taking too long to act, my fears only being confirmed as he hesitated, ready to pull away. In a blind panic, my hands at the sides of the thief’s face gripped slightly tighter, and my lips moved of their own accord against his. Garrett’s relief was evident, because the grip around my waist tightened, and he let out a huff of air through his nose. Through the haze that had set in my mind, I could hear my Angel’s elated cries; alongside her, my subconscious was stood slack-jawed. I was definitely getting a lecture for this later. Surprisingly, I didn’t seem to care, instead having the sudden urge to run my hand through Garrett’s slightly curled dark brown hair. I was about to reach my hand up to do so, when I was interrupted.

“Ew.” I immediately pulled away from the thief, turning to see Mordred, Mat and Ed all stood at the entrance to the ball room.

“It’s not ‘ew’, it’s adorable!” Mat gushed, hands clasped under her chin contentedly. With my own hands moving to Garrett’s shoulders, I lowered my gaze to find the two of us were so close I could no longer see the floor between us.

“Well, in other news,” Ed began, “they’ll be displaying that necklace soon, so you better stop canoodling and keep an eye out.”

“ _Nobody_ says canoodling, Ed.” I laughed, pulling slightly from Garrett’s grasp, only to grab his arm and pull him inside. Music sounded through the hall as we re-entered, and a voice boomed over it, “Behold one and all!”

My gaze directed itself towards the petite stage at the end of the hall, on which a gentleman stood, alongside a pedestal. On the pedestal lay a box, covered by a red silk drape.

The Soul Eater must have been in there.

“Garrett, I hope you have a plan.” I whispered, as the thief frantically searched for a route to the stage, that was now completely crowded. His eyes drifted to the rafters, and he smirked, turning to me.

“That large switch over there?” Discretely, he pointed towards a lever close to the stage, “When I give the signal, I need you to pull it, and get as far away from it as you can. I’ll do the rest.”

“Yeah, sure, but _what’s the signal_?!” I raised my voice as Garrett began to move away from me, while the gentleman cried out, “Witness the _beautiful_ , the _glorious_ , the _spectacular_! Behold The Soul Eater!” He placed a large, calloused hand on the top of the drape, and I searched desperately for the thief I had now lost, to find him near one of the side pillars that lined the hall, staring intently at me with three fingers up near his head.

Three seconds. The signal.

The hall erupted with ‘Ooh’s and ‘Aah’s when the silk was removed, and I had to remind myself not to get distracted by looking over as I counted to three. I kept an eye on Garrett the whole time I could still see, trying to commune through facial features ‘I hope you know what you’re doing!’ He smiled, and that was the last I saw of him before I flipped the switch and ran. Screams resonated around me, bodies flying in front of, around and into me.

One scream caught my attention.

“Mommy!” The cry sent a distress signal through my brain, an alarm striking out as it came again, “ _Mommy_!”

In my haste to get the job done, I’d forgotten Mordred was afraid of the dark.

“Mordred! Mordred, darling where are you?” I tried to keep my voice calm so he wouldn’t panic any more than he was, but it was pretty difficult when I was yelling over the tops of peoples’ heads.

“I’m over here!” ‘Very helpful.’ My Angel muttered, earning a smack about the head from my subconscious, ‘Oh shut up; he’s eight.’

“Ah!” Every other noise muted as the scream reached my ears, and I stopped. What happened? Was Mordred hurt? Had someone seen me near the switch and taken him? Was he okay?!

“Mordred!” No answer, “ _Mordred!_ ”

At that moment, the lights returned, and my gaze flitted wildly around the room for him.

Garrett had grabbed him, and was carrying him towards me.

“The Soul Eater: it’s gone!” A small grin darted over his lips, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

“Why didn’t you say something?” He hissed, placing Mordred down as I grabbed his little hand.

“Why didn’t _I_ say something? You ran off before I could!” Arguing didn’t seem to be making a difference, because Garrett acted as though he wasn’t listening.

“They’re the ones! Over there!” The high-pitched cry rang through my ears as I turned my head, still keeping up my fast paced walk. As expected, Ursula was pointing towards us, at least three guards surrounding her.

“Garrett, we gotta go.”

“Yes, I know, (Name).” ‘Well excuse me princess.’ I almost laughed aloud as my Angel huffed inside my head, picking up my speed as Garrett began to run.

I didn’t realise how hard it was to run in high heels.

“I hate these shoes.” I muttered, Garrett yelling “Hurry up, (Nickname)!” as the chaffing against my heels began to slow me down. I was suddenly tugged forward, so I looked up to find the thief’s long fingers wrapped around my wrist.

_He called me (Nickname)._

“Mommy!” the grip on my other hand suddenly disappeared as Mordred yelped. Turning to look, I found one of the guards had managed to catch up to the three of us, and had gotten a hold of him.

“Mordred!” I stopped running to try and turn back, but Garrett’s hold on my wrist didn’t loosen. Instead, he placed himself between the two of us and told me to run. Now.

“But-”

“No buts. I can outrun them; you can’t. Now go.” With a quick ‘Don’t listen to him!’ from my subconscious and an inappropriate ‘Pfft. He said butts.’ from my Angel, I obeyed and ran, trying to block out the screams of “Mommy” that kept replaying in my head.

‘I’m a terrible mother.’

“(Nickname)! (Nickname)!” Ed and Mat were suddenly beside me, playing twenty questions as we ran until we were out of sight of the mansion.

Ed was the one to ask the fatal question that made me burst into tears.

“(Nickname)... Where’re Garrett and Mordred?”

“I don’t know!” I sobbed, leaning against the house behind me with my head in my hands, as Mat rubbed my back soothingly, “Mordred got caught, and Garrett said he’d get him but... but... Oh Gods.”

I sunk to the floor, wallowing in misery and self pity as my subconscious admonished any particular hope of being comforted with ‘When will you learn that men can’t be trusted? For all we know he could have told you to leave and then ran off in another direction. You’ll probably meet him back at the Burrick later and he’ll say “I’m sorry, there was nothing I could do” and you’ll believe him (Name). You know why? Because you’re gullible and naive!’ throughout her angered speech, my Angel sat behind her with little ‘but he said he’d help’ and ‘he wouldn’t leave him’ phrases, trying to cut through my subconscious’ hisses. I ignored them both, trying to pull myself together as my companions knelt beside me, whispering encouragements like “They’ll be fine. Don’t worry sweetie.” My body refused to stop the tears from flowing until a distant question reached my ears.

“Garrett, where are the others?” All three of us looked in the direction the high-pitched voice had come from, my cries immediately halting as we waited. Even my subconscious had stopped her lecture to watch unbelieving as Mordred turned the corner multiple houses down. Garrett limped behind him, one hand safely on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, kiddo.” As he said that, he looked around to see me, Mat and Ed at the other end of the street.

I was the first to move.

“Mordred!” I screamed, loud enough that I could have woken anyone in the next two streets on either side who was already asleep. Getting to my feet, I sprinted as fast as I could without breaking an ankle in my shoes until I was close enough to kneel and take my little boy in my arms, frankly not caring about the state my dress would be in by now, “Sweetie I’m sorry; I never should have left you. I won’t ever leave you again I promise.”

“Mommy. Mommy why are you crying?” I laughed quietly through my tears – Mordred sounded more confused than anything else, stood shock still as I pulled away to look at him properly.

“It’s nothing Mordred. I was just worried you would get hurt.”

“I’m not hurt,” He said proudly, “I’m a big boy.”

“Yes, you are, darling.” I giggled, then suddenly remembered what I had seen as the two had rounded the corner, and stood up.

“But one of you _is_ hurt.” Garrett waved me off as I went to check his leg, which I noticed now I was actually paying attention was obviously bleeding.

“I’ve had worse.”

“You liar.” I sniggered, pushing him on the shoulder and apologising immediately after as he stumbled and hissed in pain. After him waving me away a second time, all five of us started walking back in the direction of the Burrick, Mordred giving us a frantically spoken summary of what happened between him, Garrett and the guards the whole way. When Ed thought he was completely done, he asked over my head towards Garrett, “Did you get that necklace then, or did you take it and hide it somewhere just to piss them off?”

Garrett chuckled, “No, I got it.” With that, he reached into his blazer pocket, and pulled out the necklace by the pure silver chain. Everyone else gasped as their eyes landed on the garment, but I was the only one that reached to try and touch one of the cyan gems at the end of the chain.

I instantly regretted it.

“Come, (Name)...” A raspy, quiet voice resounded through my head, clouding any proper judgement as whites and blues covered my vision, “Come to us...”

“(Name), are you alright?” Garrett’s voice was easily recognisable through the ringing that had replaced the whispers, but it sounded as it had at D’metra: cold, distant and not quite real. The whispers returned above the ringing, but they escalated from hushes to screeches as I tried to see through the lights that blinded me.

“(Name)! (Name), what’s wrong?!” Concentrating on Garrett’s voice, I willed myself not to succumb to the screams as my body seized, and I felt myself hit the harsh floor.

“ _(NICKNAME)_!”


	10. It Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dudes it's been 3 months and I am so so sorry.  
> Uploads will happen as fast as I can type it all out until I'm all caught up! (Which will probably be never ;_;)

I was in darkness again. But from the very beginning I knew I wasn’t alone.

“ _She’s here! She’s here!_ ” Rasped a high voice, while another tutted.

“ **She’s obviously not worthy; she yielded a lot quicker than the last one.** ”

“ _So what do we do?_ ” A pause, and my breath hitched as my mind thought up as many nightmare outcomes as it could. Finally, the voice hissed.

“ **Let _her_ decide.**” Her? I highly doubted they meant me, so who was _her_?

“Oh. It’s you again.” I spun, shocked, at the voice behind me. I’d definitely heard it before, but the memory was faint.

Erin stood before me.

Trying to convey I wasn’t frightened (though who wouldn’t be?) or intimidated, I muttered, “You don’t seem too happy to see me.”

She ignored me, simply pinning me with a glare that could freeze steam in seconds. ‘If looks could kill.’

“ _What should we do with her?_ ”

“ **I don’t like her! Her friend seemed a lot more interesting; let’s get him.** ”

“No!” Erin cried, suddenly sensitive.

“ _Why not?_ ” The first voice gasped, “ _We could have_ both _of them!_ ”

“I said _NO_!” Lifting my arms up to avoid the blast of primal Erin let out as she yelled, I scrambled away, trying to seek sanctuary from the potential danger she could turn into.

“ ~~I think we should leave them alone...~~ ” A third, whispery voice muttered, barely heard over Erin and the other two voices.

“ _Well, no one cares what you think._ ” The first voice hissed, a scary change to the almost creepy jolliness laced within its words before.

“ ~~But Garrett cares about her... wouldn’t he be upset if we hurt her?~~ ”

“Garrett _doesn’t_ care!” Bawled Erin, bright blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. Confused, I furrowed my brows at Erin and stepped forward, arms out and palms open before my face. The poor girl was incredibly unstable, and was so insecure it might have been possible to talk her into letting me leave.

“Erin, sweetheart,” I swallowed as her gaze flew to me and went steely, “Erin, I know you think Garrett doesn’t care, but really-”

“Don’t you _dare_ tell me that crap of ‘he cares on the inside, he just doesn’t show it’.” She got angrier as she continued, body tensing and fists clenching, “You don’t know him. You met him, what, a month ago? I’ve known him for more than ten years, and I _know_ he doesn’t care. All those years I tried to impress him, just wanted a little ‘Erin, you did good today’ but did that happen? No. He doesn’t care, so don’t try to bullshit me into thinking he does.” She seemed ready to leave, as though she was going to feed me to some unseeable animal.

“Erin, please, I understand why-”

“No you _don’t_!” Another blast of primal sent me sprawling to the floor, “You don’t understand. But I’ll make you. First I’ll destroy you, and then I’ll destroy everything you love and make you watch. Then you’ll understand _why_.” Fearful that she would destroy me in that exact moment, I pulled myself to my feet and tried to calmly back away. It didn’t help when I stuttered,

“E-Erin, please: don’t do this.”

“What? Are you going to cry? Are you scared? Good; you know how I feel.”

Translucent cyan arms engulfed me, their ghostly fingers slicing through me like knives on butter. The last thing I saw above the mist that surrounded me was the smile on Erin’s face that didn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes, which were blank and steely, said ‘You can’t escape’.

And then I was falling into darkness.

***

I jumped, staring up at a bland ceiling and wondering how I had ended up in bed. What I did know was that this wasn’t my room.

“Ah, you’re up.” It was Basso’s.

“What happened?” Obvious question, I know, but for now I was completely unaware of what had happened while I was in the world of… whatever the hell that was.

“The other’s said you touched that necklace and passed out. Garrett thinks it’s something to do with the primal.” Sitting up, I watched Basso flit around the room: lighting candles and getting a glass of water, presumably for me. I failed to notice the warm weight on my right hand.

“Well, tell Garrett he was right.”

“Tell him yourself.” The fence nodded his head at the spot next to the bed, and I tilted my head to see none other than the Master Thief dosing in the rickety wooden chair, head nodding slightly as his inactive body slipped downwards into a slump. One arm was on his knee, while the other was reaching out to the bed, large hand covering my own. I smiled.

“Ed said he carried you all the way from Auldale,” Basso continued, “and he wouldn’t let anyone look at his leg until he knew you were alright.”

“Which means…” I trailed off, anxious. Basso sighed,

“No one has checked him over yet. I thought of getting the Queen of Beggars down here to look while he was snoozing over there,” he nodded to Garrett again, “but he’d probably hurt me for it.”

I giggled as I watched the thief, then laughed properly at his expression when his head dipped too far and he fell forward, waking him. The look of shock turned guarded, and he glared at me as an ungraceful snort flew past my lips.

“Well, I see you’re perfectly fine.” He snapped, looking very much like Mordred when he doesn’t get what he wants.

“I’m sorry, it was funny, is all. And don’t pout at me Garrett – you’re thirty five.”

“I’m not pouting.” Slumping back into his original position, Garrett crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders, the expression intensifying.

“Mhmm.” Trying not to smile, I nodded downwards, “How’s the leg?”

He turned his head slightly, not meeting my eyes, “Sore.”

“Well then let someone look at it.”

“I’m fine.”

“Dammit, Garrett, don’t argue with me.” Attempting to stand up, I was met with Garrett’s hand on my shoulder, pushing me down, “What are you doing?”

“You’ve been out for almost a day; you aren’t getting up just yet.”

“I’ve been what?” Desperately shoving against Garrett’s force, I tried to stand up again, only for his other hand to grasp my thigh, stopping me from straightening my legs.

“Sit down, (Name).”

“I don’t _want_ to sit down!” I cried, blood boiling as his leg clamped down over mine. With a force that would break bones, he shoved me down onto my back, leaning over to prevent me from getting up again. Thrashing around, I pushed against his weight, but to no avail. By now, Basso had left the room, presumably to tell the others I was awake. I couldn’t get help from him… Wonderful.

Flopping down on the mattress, I gave up on standing, and glowered at Garrett as he warily lessened his grip.

“Let me go.”

“No.” My stare hardened, but it didn’t seem to have any effect, because Garrett just chuckled, “Now who’s pouting?”

“Shut up.” Wriggling again, I willed my legs to find a way out from under his before they numbed. I was about to squirm my way out, when a voice filled the room.

“Oh, are we interrupting something?” Accompanied by a quiet giggle from Mat, Ed spoke through the quiet rustling of sheets under me, a cheeky grin on his permanently smiling face. Instead of answering, Garrett pulled away from me, allowing me to sit up, and the two of us sent identical looks of bemusement their way. Edward stared back, grin widening.

Mordred was the first to break the silence.

“Mommy!” The outburst surprised us all, and I had to brace myself as Mordred came charging across the room at breakneck speed, Garrett scooting out of the way as he shot himself onto the bed and into my lap.

“Mommy, you scared me! You were asleep a real long time and I thought you were gonna sleep forever!” The cry came out in a babbled rush, but I managed to interpret the message he was trying to give me, and wrapped my arms around his torso.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. If I’d known I would have woken up sooner.”

“Well, now that you _are_ awake…” Basso interrupted, scratching the back of his neck, “Care to tell us what happened?”

Shuffling hesitantly, I let out a heavy sigh as I tried to come up with a summary of what had happened without it either being confusing or make me sound crazy.

“I don’t really know… I mean, I saw Erin again, and there were other voices, like ghosts or something, but-” A ringing in my ear cut me off, and I brought a hand up automatically as a sharp pain throbbed in the back of my head.

“Don’t. Telling them will only make it worse for you. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” The last part was whispered in a sickeningly sweet tone that made me shudder, other arm reaching out to brace myself against my leg.

“Mommy?” Opening an eye, I caught a blurry image of Mordred’s worried face, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, darling; just a headache.” I whispered, shaking my head. As I did, my eyes caught on Garrett, usual calculating expression replaced with a look of worry. Forcing a smile, I gently tugged Mordred from my lap and went to stand up.

“I’m fine, really. You’re all just overreacting.”

“I think we have the right to, darling,” Mat piped up for the first time, “you fell so hard you would have hit your head bad if Garrett hadn’t caught you.”

Looking over at said thief, I found him sitting with his head down, suddenly very interested in a chip in his nail. My smile turned genuine, and his body jolted as I placed a kiss on the top of his head.

“Well I can see this getting not very child friendly, so Mordred and I’ll be off.”  
“You see that in everything, Ed.” Mat retorted, following the two up the stairs. Basso, unsure of what to do, lingered for a moment, then muttered something to himself and left.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I flopped back down on the bed, arms over my eyes.

“You have some interesting friends.”  
“Yeah, well, they make my miserable life fun, so…” I trailed off, not knowing how to continue or change the subject. So Garrett did.

“You’re not telling me something.”  
“What?” Startled, I pulled the hands from my eyes and sat up, meeting his eye.

“You stopped earlier. Something happened, and you’re not telling me.”

“I’m fi-”

“(Name) you are _not_ fine.” Garrett’s voice turned fierce, and I swallowed as he leaned over me. Shuffling away wasn’t an option; I was already too close to the headboard to move, so instead I ended up leaning back, head smacking lightly against the wall, “When you touched that necklace it looked like someone had ripped your heart out of your chest, and then you were out for a whole day. Do you have _any_ idea how wo-” His voice escalated into a near shout before dropping off suddenly, as though he’d realised he’d ended up yelling. I was so intent on figuring out his facial expression that I didn’t even try to complete what he was saying.

“I – I’m sorry, Garrett,” I whispered, eyes looking anywhere but his, “It’s just Erin. She… I don’t…” I couldn’t tell him, couldn’t ruin the image of the girl he was so afraid of losing. I’d felt his fear in the first hallucination I had had with Erin: it was a fear similar to what I would feel if I were to lose Mordred.

“Okay.” The feeling that was laced in his voice was one I couldn’t place, but somehow it filled me with guilt, and I looked up to meet his gaze. Brows furrowed, he searched for something we both knew was there, before he sat back and grabbed my hand to pull me up.

“ _Ooh! It’s already working!_ ” The raspy voice rang in my ears. No, I couldn’t let it work.

 

 

I couldn’t let them break me.


	11. Ursula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada, new chapter on the wrong day!  
> Also, if you guys like this, have a look at the series The Corsair and the Corsetteer by brohne (Sorrowsfall to Tumblr.) and Haethel. Absolutely fabtabulous!

After I had finally calmed down, and convinced Garrett to at least let _me_ take a look at his leg, it became a very slow afternoon. As I’d suspected, Garrett’s leg looked terrible: the crossbow bolt that he’d been hit with had broken off, but I managed to pull the rest of it out with little worry of leaving splinters behind. Honestly, I was surprised infection hadn’t set in by that time.

“You know, you’re lucky we don’t have to chop this off.”

Garrett faked a laugh, “That’s funny.”

“I’m dead serious.” I replied, looking up from my spot in front of his chair. One of his brows furrowed, and he kept his gaze on me for a while, until he seemed to find whatever he was looking for and raised his brows in a ‘fair enough’ expression. Going back to what I was doing, I finished wrapping the gauze around his calf, and brought out my small pocket knife to cut away the left over bandages. All the wrapping almost came undone as Garrett flinched away from the knife, and I almost fell onto my stomach as I followed him so as to not let go of the cotton.

“Hey! I’m not gonna cut you, calm down.” I yelped, as the thief stared sceptically at me. I smiled slightly, “Looks like my threat to cut it off spooked you.”

“Hmm.” Was all I got. I stood up when I had stuck down the gauze. I waited for Garrett to pull the trouser leg down, and put his boot back on, before I reached out to help him up.

“Well, let’s get you on your feet.” He looked at me, and shook his head, but took my hand all the same. Basso chose then to return to the room, as usual a tankard in hand.

“You both certainly look better.” There was something in his voice that screamed ‘I know something I shouldn’t’ and the both of us watched him as his face contorted into a smirk, “I knew it wouldn’t take long for you two to get close.”

“Oh, don’t start, Basso.” I sighed, exasperated, as I raked a hand through my hair, Garrett just giving him a look that meant ‘really?’

It wasn’t enough.

“No, I will. For starters, the bartender owes me twenty gold and-”

“You were taking bets?” He stopped short as he realised what he’d said, and he paled at the sight of Garrett and myself giving him a look cold enough to kill.

“Well, I don’t know about _bets_ , but…”

“Basso, you have ten seconds to explain yourself.” The thief spoke up for the first time, lips drawn in a thin line as he stared down our fence.

“N-now listen, Garrett.”

“Nine.” Basso fled. I laughed.

“You sure know how to frighten him.”

“Twenty years of experience.” He chuckled, eyes catching mine. For a brief moment, I gave into the little cries from my Angel to lean in. I don’t know if Garrett was surprised, because if he was he didn't show it, but soon the two of us were so close I could feel his breath pass my cheek.

“Oh and I also have a new job fo- bad time?”

“Dammit, Basso!”

***

About a half hour later we were back in Auldale, scanning the mansion belonging to Madam Beaumont. It was definitely smaller than Lady Grey’s, but held the same aura of dignity about it.

Hopefully there’d be no annoying teenage girls to seduce the Master Thief today.

It was simple enough to get in: a little hidden door in the side of a greenhouse. I actually reached out to pick one of the many tomatoes on the potted stems, but a look from Garrett stilled me. Pouting, I followed like an obedient pet as we moved through a tunnel beneath the house.

“But they wouldn't have noticed if just _one_ went missing.”

“I'm not having this conversation, (Name).” Even though it was meant to be a scold, I could hear the curl of his lips even with his back turned to me.

“Naw, you love me really.”

“You’re gonna get us killed if you don’t quit yapping like a dog.”

“Woof woof.” I muttered, trying hard to keep Garrett from hearing.

Whatever I tried obviously didn't work.

“Oh? We’re playing that game?” Garrett’s voice took on a playful tone, and in any other situation I would have laughed at how misleading he sounded. But as he forced me to a wall, lips moving to my ear, all I could do was shudder as he whispered: “I can certainly play that game.”

“Oh, I’d love to play!” It wasn’t my voice that rang out through the corridor, and the thief and I turned our heads to see none other than Ursula Grey about fifteen feet away from us, dressed in skin tight black leather, including thigh-high heeled boots.

“What are you doing here?” Garrett seemed more confused than anything, apparently not the slightest bit agitated she’d interrupted – I certainly was. ‘Stop it, (Name). You’re being immature.’ My subconscious hissed, with my Angel whining in the background that ‘it’s just not fair!’

“I followed you.” She sang, eyes glittering at her ‘achievement’.

“I gathered that, but why?”

“Well, I wanted to spend time with my favourite thief.”

“I really am flattered,” I cut in, smirk ready, “but as you can see I’m a little busy at the moment.” I only got a glare.

“Yes I see. Are we actually going to steal anything tonight or are you going to play dirty in this tunnel?” I rolled my eyes as Garrett stepped away from me. Damn her, “What are we stealing anyway?”

“ _We’re_ stealing a mask. _You’re_ going home.” Garrett replied, poking a finger at her as he spoke.

“Oh but you’re wrong; see, if you don’t take me with you I’ll call for the guards.”

“Love, you realise that would get you killed too?” I muttered, irritation setting in, “You’re trespassing on private property, and you’re dressed enough like a thief to be a pretty convincing one, albeit a dull one.” I whispered the last part, and apparently she didn’t hear. Garrett did, for the corner of his lip twitched slightly.

“At least I’d get to spend time with my Garrett in jail.” …Honestly? Embittered, I placed my hand over my face, rubbing it over my nose and down my cheek as I groaned. I wasn’t even going to bother gracing that with a response.

“Go home Ursula.”

“Hm, no.”

“Then at least keep your mouth shut, you’ll get us all caught.” ‘And you lower the IQ of the whole street.’ My Angel grunted bitterly, my subconscious suppressing a laugh as she huffed and crossed her arms.

“Can I walk with Garrett?”

“As long as you promise not to touch me.” The thief butted in, wriggling away from the grip she had on his arm.

“Okay!” She cried, skipping ahead of me. Sighing, I turned back to Garrett, who shrugged as he wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me closer.

“Let’s just get this over with; with any luck she’ll get herself caught.”

“That’s cruel, Garrett.”

“At least I didn’t insult her attire.”

“Oh Gods, look at her boots, though.”

“And here we go.” He chuckled, following Ursula to make sure she didn’t set off some kind of trap as she turned the corner.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I mumbled, starting off after them.

It didn’t take long to find the room we were looking for – it had a plaque on it that literally said ‘Trophy Room’. Subtle. Inside, the room was lined wall to wall with glass cupboards, showing off trophy cups, medals and every other award for Gods know what. The floorboards, though hidden very well, were obviously laden with traps: tripwires, pressure pads, the like. Directly opposite from the door, stood a large, ornately carved desk, on it a crystal box holding only one object.

The Beaumont Mask.

The mask had been passed down for generations, and no one was particularly sure when it was crafted. They only knew it was worth a lot. It almost seemed to glitter as the beams from the tiny spotlight in the front of the box bounced off it, and the three petite peacock feathers seemed to glow a majestic kingfisher green in the dull light of the room. It would be a shame for Madam Beaumont to wake up the next morning to find the family’s prize possession gone. Oh well.

It was pretty easy to nab the mask: I kept Ursula away from _anything_ that could have set off some sort of alarm or trap, while Garrett concentrated on picking the lock of the case, gently tapping around the base just to make sure the pedestal it sat on wasn’t trapped itself.

“Well, we might as well explore a little while we’re here.” Garrett whispered, as the three of us left the room. I nodded, as Ursula attentively followed the thief. She had been oddly quiet recently.

The next room we wondered into looked like any other normal bedroom, but upon closer inspection became a violent playroom for all manner of things I wouldn’t like to mention. Opening a draw, I picked up a leather clad, firmed bar.

“Looks like someone has a riding crop fetish.” I spoke, turning my head to slyly look Garrett up and down as he passed, “Smack that ass from five feet away.” I laughed, flicking out the crop to catch just under the small of his back, and snorting as he yelped and jumped away. As he turned back to look wide eyed at me, I heard Ursula mutter a small ‘Childish’ from the other end of the room. ‘Says the child.’ My subconscious snapped, though I felt her irritation was more towards me than to Ursula. Quietly, I put the crop back in its place, and turned to see her fingering one of the straps at the edge of the bed.

“You ever been tied to a bed, Garrett?” The thief shivered at the question, but didn’t turn back to look at her, instead continuing to search another dresser in the right corner of the room.

“It’s not an experience I’d be particularly fond of, so no.”

“It’s fun.” I cringed at the tone of her voice, and was about to reply with a quick ‘You really shouldn't know that’ when I was interrupted by two pairs of feet careening through the hallway.

“Garrett-”

“Shh.” Ursula quietened as we all stood shock still, praying that the footfalls would pass. Our prayers were in vain. A pair stumbled through the door, and if it hadn't let so much light in, I’d say they were too invested in each other to notice us.

Apparently not.

The smaller of the two, a young woman only slightly curvier than Ursula, turned her head with a gasp as the five of us – her companion included – stood frozen for a few more seconds. Then, the woman opened her mouth to suck in a gulp of air.

“Fu-”


	12. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having returned to The City after five years of hiding from everything that hurt her, a young woman faces her demons with her old friends, new friends, and multiple enemies. She only hopes that her little boy won't have to suffer the heartaches and troubles that life can throw at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God dammit I did it again and I'm so sorry (especially to somebodyloving, whom I insisted towards I would update like 5 weeks ago o.o) but I cannot do angsty chapters, and this chapter is so angsty I had to up an age rating. There that's my excuse. Take it while I sit in a corner with my angst.

“ **Thief!** ” The woman cried, but instead of them both waiting for the guards to show up (like we had expected them to) her lover started advancing towards us, hate burning in his eyes.

And he was coming right for me.

“(Na-”

“I know.” I groaned, stepping back cautiously as he stepped towards the dresser I’d been searching, and pulled out the riding crop, “Oh, if that’s where you’re going, I’m not really into that kind of thing.”  
“Shut up!” He snapped, voice low and gravely. He raised his arm above his head, and I ducked as he swung the riding crop at me, hood falling as I spun to run to the window Garrett had worked on opening. I was pulled back when the lover grabbed my ponytail. Gasping, I was pressed with my back to him, barely an inch of space between us, as he grabbed at the dagger on my thigh and pressed it to my neck. Instantly, Garrett pulled out his bow.

“Ah-” The lover spoke, voice filling the room, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” To prove his point, he pushed the dagger closer, and I tried not to move as it cut my skin. Garrett didn’t flinch.

“You better let her go.” He replied, voice level.

The lover laughed, “Or what?”

“I’ll shoot.”

“No you won’t.” Garrett adjusted his bow, as if attempting to prove him wrong, “See, I know you, Master Thief. And I also know you don’t kill. Me, however.” His head sunk down to my shoulder, the tip of his nose nuzzling my ear, “I live for it.” I shivered, jerking my head away from him, and stopping short as the blade at my throat dug deeper.

“I kill to protect my own.”  
“Oh, so _that’s_ what the bond is between The Master Thief and his little shadow.” His rancid breath was hot against my neck as he laughed, and I forced myself not to move any further, “This makes things interesting.”

“Don’t touch me.” I hissed, as his hand moved from my arm to my waist, fingers spread across my stomach.

“You’re not really in the position to make that order, shadow.” His lips moved close to my ear, and to stop myself from either scooting away or elbowing him, I kept my eyes locked on Garrett’s, whose arms were still holding the bow up, “Well, thief, what are you going to do?”

Garrett just smiled.

“Simple. You take mine…” He moved around so the bow was no longer aiming at me, but the woman, who had stood forgotten by the door, “I take yours.”

“You wouldn’t.” Garrett didn’t move; instead turning his head to look the lover in the eye.

And then he fired.

A shriek ran through the room, and I almost sagged in relief as I realised Garrett hadn’t killed the woman, but instead skimmed over her head. Thankfully, it was a good enough shot, because the lover turned around in surprise, giving me an opening to elbow his gut and step away. I scooped the dagger from the floor as the lover dropped it, and followed Garrett, who was already running for the window. Down on the floor, the thief pushed Ursula’s shoulder (who was still waiting under the window) to say ‘get moving’, and the three of us sprinted through a conveniently placed back gate, not stopping until we stumbled down the steps to Basso’s room. I fell on Garrett’s arm as he bent double, both of us gulping in air. By the time I’d caught some of my breath back, my throat burned and I felt ready to cough up my lungs.

“Woah, woah, what happened to you?” The two of us just looked at him, neither of us able to respond as we fought for air. Ed and Mat pulled up some chairs, and I had to force Garrett down with my shoulders as he attempted to wave them away. He was thankfully the first to catch his breath.

“We-” He gulped, “We got caught.”

“You _what_?”

“Easy, Basso.” I panted, hand up, “We still got the mask.”

“Well, never mind that.” Mat spoke, pointing behind us, “Who’s she?” Turning in the chair, I found Ursula was _still_ following the two of us, and was presently leant against the wall beside the door.

“Oh Gods, why are _you_ here?” Instead of answering me, Ursula stepped behind Garrett’s chair and rested her hands on his shoulders. Still breathless and distracted, Garrett almost jumped out of his skin.

“Oh, poor Garrett, they didn’t hurt you did they?” Her hands slipped from his shoulders to his chest, and she rested her cheek atop his head, giving her a perfect view of my unamused face. Ed was looking between the two of us, a grin spreading across his face as a cat fight broke out in his head. I just raised a brow at her.

“I’m fine.” Garrett muttered, exasperated. He wiped a hand over his forehead, before he seemed to remember something, and abruptly stood. He didn’t seem to care that Ursula had still been clinging to him, or that his sudden burst had sent her sprawling back into Basso’s desk. I couldn’t contain a smile.

“But you’re not.” The thief knelt in front of me, and he pushed past my hands as I tried to wave him off, turning my head to see my neck.

“Garrett, it’s barely a scratch, I’m not gonna die.” I only got a look in return.

“I’m just checking.” He muttered, halfway through rolling his eyes before he noticed something, “What’s..?”

My head was turned to the other side as his finger moved to trace the line from my jaw down to the neckline of my shirt, and I closed my eyes and sighed in defeat.

“I was hoping you’d never notice that.”

“Why?” I couldn’t answer him. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to; it was that every time I opened my mouth nothing would happen. For the third time, I shut my mouth, the world seeming to darken around me. I stood, only whispering a little ‘I’m sorry’ before I turned with the ambition to go to my room and forget.

That didn’t happen.

“(Nickname), wait.” Garrett’s voice followed me, as did his steps.

“Garrett I wouldn’t-” Basso was cut off as a hand gripped my waist, shoving me into the wall beside the door. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of me, and I looked up in fear.

          Into the eyes of the Thief-Taker General.

“Come here you,” he almost sang, “how about we have a little fun?”

“No, please!” I yelped, trying to wriggle away and flailing my arms. His hands flew from my waist to grab my wrists, gripping them together in one large fist and holding them above my head, “let me go!”

“Not happening, sweetheart.” He laughed, his rancid breath tickling my cheek. His head moved from my ear to my neck, and I cringed as his lips pressed harshly against it.

“No, stop! Don’t touch me!” My cries were in vain, as his hand that wasn’t holding my wrists wandered down to my hip, thumb playing with the waistband of my trousers.

“You know, I could have you hanged for theft. Think of this as me doing you a favour.” He rumbled against my shoulder. He went still, besides his lips moving against my pulse, before my trousers were suddenly pulled down. I gasped as they dropped and pooled near my ankles.

“Jefferson, Gregs! Tie her down.” I was tugged from my spot against the wall, almost tripping over my discarded trousers, and thrust to my hands and knees. Before I had time to move, my hands were pulled out from under my head. I looked up to find an old, stubby man binding my wrists, a younger one beside him holding my elbows together. He only seemed about my age. As I shuffled forward, he caught my eye, his holding some form of pity and sorrow.

“Help me.” I whimpered. His face faltered and his grip slackened, before his companion finished knotting my ties, and he looked away, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. That was the last I saw before my vision blurred, searing pain running through me.

          I screamed, violently trying to pull my hands from the bindings, failing to feel the warmth of what was actually a pair of hands on my wrists.

“(Nickname)! (Nickname), look at me, it’s Garrett. (Nickname) please!” I looked up to see Garrett holding my arms just under his chin, eyes wide and disconcerting. I knew it was Garrett; I could see him before me, could watch his lips form the words I heard, but the General’s voice taunted me. His laugh drilled into my ears, tugging me further from reality and back into that nightmare I had tried so hard to avoid for so long. What I now recognise as Garrett’s bow glinted in the lamplight, but all I saw was the flicker of a knife, and I was suddenly on my back, shoulders bare against the cold floor.

          “I don’t think bruises are enough. Maybe I should mark you in a more... permanent manner.” The General tormented, waving the knife almost provocatively in front of my face. I could only shake my head frantically, unable to speak past the sobs as a fresh wave of pain ran over me every half second.

“Oh I think I should. How about it, Gregs?”

“Personally, I think it’d be a shame to let her go, considering what she’s done, without a bit of bloodshed sir.”

“My thoughts exactly.” The knife came to the left side of my face, the tip digging under my jaw. I tried not to wince as the skin broke, stinging as blood fell from the cut; coupled with the pain in my stomach and... other places, it proved rather difficult, “I think we should give you a nice big scar. One that you can’t avoid, hm?” He laughed again as the knife moved down. Jolting every so often with the rocking of my body against the floor, the stinging sensation spread down my neck, across my chest and down the plain of my stomach before flicking off to the right where our hips met. My vision blurred again at the sight of red, not sure if it was my queasiness or the fresh wave of tears that fell down my cheeks. I shut my eyes as he stilled, a sob breaking through as I released the breath I hadn’t realised I was holding.

          “(Name), sweetie. It’s okay, he’s not here.” I opened my eyes to see mat hovering nervously before me, hands on my shoulders.

“Mat...” I whispered, voice hoarse. It seemed enough for her, because she pushed forward, her arms moving under mine, and I was pulled into a hug.

The comforting gesture made me burst into tears again.

“It’s alright, baby; he can’t hurt you.” She whispered into my neck, the side without the scar, as her hand rubbed soothing circles into my back. I was faintly aware of conversation outside, one voice confused and the other aggravated. Over my cries, I couldn’t clearly tell what they were saying, but I heard snippets of the conversation float through the window.

“... happened, Basso?”

“She... panic attack... once before... week after she...”

“What?”

“Couple brought her... Auldale... found her crying, clothes ripped up... bleeding.”

Another voice cut over the two: “Guys, she’s back.” Edward.

“Oh thank god.” Something stumbled down the steps, and Basso swung around the doorway, eyes furrowed, “You alright, kid?”

“I-I don’t...” With the help of Mat, I pulled myself up from the floor, leaning on Basso’s desk.

“ _What was that_?” The cheery voice of the first ghost rang through my head.

“ **I don’t know, but it’s useful**.”

“Hmm.” Erin’s voice came next, a tone between thoughtful and sinister in it, “We could use this. I guess you were right, she’s weaker than we thought.”

I almost yelled aloud in protest, instead jamming my hands over my ears to try and stop the voices, though I knew it wouldn’t work.

I wasn’t weak. I could stop this. If not for me, for Basso, for Mat, for Ed. Hell, for Garrett.

“Mommy?”

 For Mordred.


	13. Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of crack and happiness.  
> Because I'm a terrible writer that can't deal with my babies being sad, that's why.

“We could use this. I guess you were right, she’s weaker than I thought.”

Over the past three weeks, that line had run through my head every time I let my thoughts roam. Erin had stayed true to her word; whenever she could, I was reminded of that day. Every time I saw my scar in the mirror, when something made me jump, even when Mordred randomly grabbed my hand. I knew I was pulling away from everyone, and I also knew they were worried about it. After the first week, my appetite began to dissipate. By the end of the second week, I had lost interest in anything and everything – not even stealing could spike a reaction any more. Usually, I just lay in bed, either staring at the ceiling or huddled under the blanket.

That was how Basso found me in his office.

“Come on (Nickname), you need to eat _something_.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten in nearly two days.”

“I’m fine.” There was a thud as Basso slammed the tray of whatever food he had on his desk, and he huffed in exasperation.

“Fine, fine, starve. See if I care.” His footfalls grew quieter as he stomped up the stairs, and I was left in silence for a little while.

“(Name)?” I jumped, not realising I’d fallen asleep. I shuffled away as a hand curled under the cover, pulling it off of my head. Garrett’s expression of concern only made me shuffle further, “Basso says you’re not eating.”

“I’m not hungry.” I repeated, tugging the quilt from his fingers to hide again, but my voice shook. I wasn’t sure if Erin was doing it on purpose, but I always got especially skittish around Garrett, his touch enough to send me into hysterics. I didn’t have to ask to know he hated it as much as I did.

“Hungry or not, you have to eat something.”

“No I don’t.”

“(Name).” He hissed. I shivered; it only scared me more when I made him angry. Mat told me he never meant it, but it still hurt, “You’re half the size you were when we met.”

“You’re exaggerating.” I whispered, curling myself in closer as the bed shifted with his weight.

“I’m not. If you lose any more weight I’m sure Mordred will be able to push you over with two fingers.” Despite that sounding like an obvious joke, his voice held no humour. He really was serious. Crying out as something grabbed at my arm, I shot up, the cover falling off my head as I pulled my arm away. Garrett sat at the edge of the bed, hand outstretched and his face void of emotion. Only the slight lift in his eyebrows showed he felt anything towards my reaction at all. I looked down, unable to keep my gaze on his and hold in my tears – I’d cried a lot in the past three weeks.

“What’s gotten into you?” His voice was soft, a striking change to the anger in it minutes ago. I sniffed, “(Nickname), please.”

“I don’t know.” The image of my hands on my knees faded as tears welled, and I closed my eyes to be rid of them. Something wrapped around my torso, hesitant, barely there. Opening my eyes again, I was met with an identical pair of black bracers, fingerless gloves spreading over my stomach. Thankfully, I managed to relax in the embrace, resting my head against the thief’s shoulder.

“Please eat something.” Garrett muttered, lips against my forehead.

“I don’t-”

“(Nickname).” He warned.

“Sorry.”

“Hmm. Where’s that stew Basso said he got for you?”

“On his desk, I think.” Waving my arm towards the desk, I curled a little further into myself as he pulled away - the instant loss of his warmth sent unwanted shivers over my skin, though not because of the cold. It didn’t take long before he had sat back down, the bowl in his hands.

“Now, don’t make me have to feed you.” He groaned. I wasn’t sure whether to giggle or flinch as he placed the bowl in my lap, watching expectantly.

Suddenly, stew seemed to be my least favourite food.

Sitting still for a while, I stared down at the food, unable to bring my hand up to grab the spoon.

“(Nickname)?” I recoiled from the unexpectedly close voice, but the hand on my shoulder stopped me from going too far, “Is everything okay?”

How am I supposed to respond to that? No, it’s not, your apprentice is trying to kill me. Brilliant, (Name). Letting out a shaky sigh, I gripped the spoon and forced myself to eat. I blanched when the food ran down my throat, my body wanting to refuse it as the blandness carried across my taste buds.

“Ew.” Garrett chuckled behind me, and leant towards my ear.

“Here’s a deal:” He muttered, “You eat at least half of that and I’ll get you something sweet.” I perked up at the word ‘sweet’, and looked from the stew to Garrett.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” His chuckle turned to a laugh. Grinning, he stood up, ruffling my hair as one would a child.

“You have to eat it, though.” Walking to the door of Basso’s room, he turned at the foot of the stairs, “Promise?”

“Promise.”

‘Oh, stop smirking, (Name).’ The corners of my lips twitched and fell as I realised I actually was smiling.

‘Leave her alone, you meanie, she hasn’t smiled in _years_!’ Twisting around giddily, my Angel looked wistfully to the door.

‘It’s been three weeks.’

‘Which is just as long!’ I sniggered at my Angel’s naivety, and looked back to the forgotten bowl on my lap. Raising the spoon to my lips again, I swallowed another mouthful of stew, repeating the process as quickly as possible to repress the shivers in my spine.

“Wow. Basso’s gonna be pissed.” Flicking my gaze up to the door, I saw Ed’s fiery hair peek around the corner, grin ever present, “What did he bribe you with?”

“He didn’t bribe me!” I protested, subconsciously biting my tongue.

“You bite your tongue when you’re lying.” Dammit.

“He promised to get me sweets if I ate half of it.” Instead of running off to tell Basso, his grin just fell slightly.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” I almost spat out the stew I’d just shovelled into my mouth. Swallowing, I took a deep breath, and did something I hadn’t done in a while.

I laughed.

And not just a little breathy giggle that you do when someone tells a mildly funny joke; no, I actually laughed, snorts and all.

“I don’t know what Basso put in that stew, but I want some.” I laughed harder, doubling over the bowl as I huffed for air, “Garrett, have you heard this?”

“You can hear it from the clock tower.” A smooth voice replied. Looking up through watery eyes, I grinned as the dark figure came closer, “As promised.” The bowl was taken from my hands, in its place a small brown bag. My laughter ceased as I looked down at the bag, opening it to find a small, square jar. Gasping, I eagerly pulled the jar out, marvelling at the round yellow candies within.

Edward choked, “How in the _Hell_ did you find fizzy lemons in The City?”

“I have my ways.” Another laugh escaped my throat, and I dropped the jar on the bed, throwing my arms around Garrett’s neck.

“Oh my Gods I love you so much!” He froze as I grabbed him, before relaxing and curling his arms under mine.

“They’re just sweets, (Nickname).”

“No. These ‘just sweets’ are my favourite sweet _ever_.”

“(Nickname), calm down, you’re twenty eight.” Mat tittered, coming down the stairs with Basso behind her. Basso looked down at the bowl, which had been replaced on his desk.

“Oh I see how it is.” He muttered, feigning annoyance. I just smiled at him.

“You’re twenty eight?” I pulled away from Garrett’s shoulder to look at his face, slightly humoured by the surprise laced on it.

“What, you think I look older?” Pause.

“No!”

Ed burst into laughter, “Did you see that?! He shit himself!” Curling in on himself, Ed’s laughter rang through the room, putting mine to shame. I beamed at Garrett as he coughed, looking away.

“Alright Ed, that’s enough.”

“It is _not_!” By now, Basso had joined in with Ed’s fit of snickering, and Mat shoved the two of them up the steps.

“Come on boys, let’s get you sorted.” Winking at me as I looked her way, she disappeared through the doorway.

“Do I really look older than twenty eight?”

“No, I just wasn’t sure how old you were.”

“Alright, well how old did you think I was?” I asked, reaching behind me to find the forgotten jar of sweets, though it proved difficult with the thief’s arms still around me. Garrett flicked his gaze back up to me, eyebrows raised in hesitance.

“Don’t make me answer that.” Giggling, I popped open the jar, picking up a candy with two fingers.

“Ah.” I muttered, opening my mouth as I held the candy in front of Garrett’s lips. He just raised an eyebrow at me.

“Ah.” I repeated. His lips curled as I pressed the lemon against them, “Dammit Garrett I will get you to eat this if it’s the last thing I do.”

Chuckling, his lips parted, allowing me to drop the sweet past his teeth. I popped one into my own mouth, savouring the outer layer of lemon while it fizzed on my tongue.

“How did you manage to de-age twenty years in two hours?”  
“Candy is how.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”  
“ _You_ don’t make any sense.”

“You know, Ed was right: Basso definitely put something in that stew.” Shaking his head, Garrett pulled me closer, twisting his arms further around my waist. I snickered as I was tugged nearer, almost uncomfortably so, but my smile fell as I caught his eyes.

His lips were on mine before I realised he had even moved.

White hot primal shot through my head, searing my eyes and frying my brain. Nonetheless, I kept my mouth on his, wrapping my arms tight around his neck and digging my fingers into his hair, terrified of letting go. Right now, Garrett was the cause of and the restraint to my insanity, and if he’d just stuck to his ‘I work alone’ mantra, I would have been a goner by this point. I coiled my fingers further through his hair as he pulled back, not quite ready to lose his warmth after three weeks of shying away from it. Grunting, he dragged his hands from my waist, and tugged at my wrists, pulling them loose from his curls. His brows were furrowed when I opened my eyes, though his eyes held an emotion almost too gentle for his harsh, stoic personality.

“I haven’t seen you smile in almost a month.”

“The ghosts are being nice to me, I guess.” Despite shrinking away from everyone, I had become almost comfortable with the ghosts whizzing around my head – as if my Angel and subconscious didn’t do that enough – so they were an easy topic to bring up. Erin was another story, “Are you going on a job today?”

“A few, why?”

“Can I come?”

“(Nickname), I-”

“I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ve eaten…”

“Once in forty-eight hours.”

“… I have slow metabolism.” He sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his eye.

“Something tells me you’ll follow me if I say no anyway.”

“You know me so well.” I sang, hopping off the bed and sprinting to the door to change.

“Almost _too_ well.” He muttered after me.

“ **Why isn’t it working anymore?** ”

“ _Maybe she got over it._ ”

“ **It’s been nine years and she didn’t get over it, why would she in three weeks?** ”

“ _She might be bored of us._ ”  
“ _I’m_ getting bored of you both, now shut up.” Erin hissed. I froze halfway through pulling my shirt over my head, “Why _isn’t_ it working anymore, (Name)?”

“I guess I just don’t care anymore,” I replied, trying not to snap, “I’ve got more important things to worry about.”

“ _Like your friend and his ugly kissy faces?_ ” The first ghost piped, imitating a childish kissing noise.

“ **You couldn’t think of anything better?** ” Shaking my head, I blocked out the voices, finished changing and sprang down the stairs, ready to leave.

‘Ugh, they’re so annoying.’ My Angel pouted, crossing her arms in a huff.

‘Only as annoying as you.’ My subconscious retorted. I blocked them out too, smiling as I hopped down into Basso’s room.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”


	14. Shatter Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone! (I know I'm late for most okay I'm sorry ;_;)
> 
> A chapter I had to post late because, you know, Christmas.  
> From today, if I don't repost on atleast the 25th of each month, you may all hunt me down and beat me up.
> 
> Ciao~

“Garrett, I’m pretty sure the Burrick is the other way.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“Then where in blazes are we going?” I hissed, sliding into a back alley after him.

“Taking a detour.” He muttered, scanning the wall in front of him and jumping on a box beside it, “Come on.”

Before I could move, he had scaled the wall and was waving me over. All I could do was follow after him. I dropped from the wall to find glaring white lights pointed towards the entrance of…

“Stonemarket Bank? Why am I not surprised?”         

“Sh!” I turned to look at the hard, mismatched eyes staring me down over the mask, brows furrowed.

“Don’t shush me.”

“Then be quiet.” I wasn’t given the chance to retaliate as Garrett dodged out of sight from an approaching Watchman. He stopped to lean around the corner of a plant box a few feet to my left.

“Machines don’t distract as easily as people; we should be careful.” He muttered when I caught up to him. The machine he was watching blinked at us as it passed over in our direction, and I had to duck as Garrett quickly sank back to avoid getting elbowed in the nose.

“You sure are jumpy today.” ‘Hmph was all I got back.

Once we’d crept around the machine, followed by a short climb, I hopped over the second story window and pressed my back against the bookshelf across from it. To my right, two clerks conversed in hushed voices.

“I found a scrap of paper with some numbers on it. You think it’s the vault combination?”

“It must be, I hope you didn’t just leave it anywhere.”

“Of course not! I put it in one of the lockers.”

“Which one?”

“Can’t remember. I wrote it down – it’s in my pocket.”

“You should tell Mrs. Maunders. She handles all vault security.”

“We need to find that vault.” A blunt arrow was notched in Garrett’s bow, soon flying to switch off the light. Nodding, I blinked, focusing as blue flooded over the room.

“Two staircases either side, the two clerks-”

“Two guards: one watching over the right side-”

“And the other patrolling the centre… Those swords are pretty sharp.”

“Thank you, (Nickname), for that brilliant observation.”

“Ha-ha, funny.” I whispered, skidding down the stairs and taking the lead.

   Lights and a lot of open space.

Brilliant.

I jolted as a noise alerted me, yanking out the dagger from its hold on my leg only to find a guard snoring by the front door.

‘Thank the Maker Garrett’s upstairs, or we would have looked so stupid!’ Huffing at my Angel’s bluntness, I replaced the blade, sneaking past the chair and dropping down behind a desk. Another one of those machines hid in the corner, the occasional whirring as it moved the only way to tell it was there from this distance.

“They call them Mechanical Eyes.” Sliding in behind me, Garrett watched the machine as it shifted from left to right and back again, “Keep out of that light.”

“Sir, yes sir.” I muttered, smiling over at him.

He wasn’t impressed.

‘Grouchy.’ My subconscious crossed her arms over her chest, and my Angel giggled, ‘Like you then?’

I stumbled after the thief as he suddenly shot towards another door, right beside the mechanical eye. It stopped and hissed as I went to pass through the frame, and I stood shock still until Garrett pulled me into the next room.

“What are you doing?”

“That thing is so fast. I-”

“Which is why I told you to stay away from it!”

“Don’t yell at me!”

“ _Sh!_ ” I was pulled down behind another bookcase, his arms either side of my head.

“Again with the shushin-mmph!” A hand clapped over my mouth to prevent me from saying anymore, and I had the strongest temptation to bite his finger before a mutter reached my ears.

There were more people down here.

Inwardly groaning, I glared at Garrett as he pulled away, inching around the case to another desk and set of doors behind the main barrier. From there, it was easy to get where the vaults were kept. I bit down a gasp as I noticed another guard sat right in between both doors, a nod from Garrett reassurance that I’d be fine as he picked the lock.

“Ugh, why the eyes everywhere?”

“It is a bank, (Name).”

“Well, yeah, but still.” A soft gleam captured my attention. Looking over at one of the machines, I caught sight of a lit candle behind it. It was powered by light, “Garrett, you have water arrows, don’t you?”

“Yes, why?”

“Give me your bow.”

“No!” He turned to face me, brows knitted together, “Why do you want my bow?”

“The machines are powered by candles.” His bow clicked as he pulled it out, notching a water arrow.

“Huh. Step back.” Doing as I was told, I watched as the thief quickly snuffed all three of the candles in the area. He turned to me with a smirk on his face, obviously proud of his small achievement.

“Yeah, yeah, you can shoot a few arrows.” I pulled out my old pair of lock picks and leant over a safe,

“Did you find out which locker that code is in?”

“Seven, I think.” I skidded across the room to said locker, and placed the picks in. It wasn’t long before the lock clicked, and I tucked my fingers behind the door to pull it open. In it, lay a piece of paper and a pile of coins.

“Bingo.” I muttered, picking at the paper and unravelling it. 5 8 and…

The last number was smudged into illegibility.

“Oh, for Maker’s sake!” My outburst startled Garrett, who gasped, and peeked around the corner.

“What?”

“I can’t read this blasted number!” He came around to look over my shoulder at the number, breath running over my neck.

“Neither can I.” I gave up on the small piece of parchment. Shoving it into Garrett’s hand, I stepped up to where the main vault was.

“ _(Nickname)_! Stop!”

“What?” A tile clacked as I stood on it, an arrow whizzing past and barely missing my cheek.

“Oh, crap!” Hissing reached my ears, and I turned to find Garrett up by the large Baron’s bust at the opposite side of the room, just standing from closing a trap door.

Oh.

He came up beside me, shaking his head, before going to stand in front of the door of the great safe.

“There are a few things left to savour in this city, like the smell of a newly opened vault.” His fingers curled around the first dial, then the second, turning them to match the numbers on the paper.

“Let’s do a little guess work.” The guess work was useless; every number he tried on the dial did nothing to unlock the safe. I sat against the wall in frustration, before noticing a piece of parchment in the toolbox beside me. Picking it up, I sped through the information. There was a fixed dial.

“Garrett, what was the second dial on before you moved it?”

“Three, I think… why?”

“Move it back.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” He did as he was told, then moved the third dial again. Something clicked as it reached two.

“Glad no one memorised this thing.” The vault pulled open, and I stepped in behind Garrett, marvelling as a chandelier overhead burst into light, “Now to make a little withdrawal from Lady Hudnall’s accounts.”

Going through the vault was almost too easy. With the mechanical eyes figured out, stealing what should have been close to unobtainable was a walk in the park. I was beginning to have a good time.

Until I found a note on one of the bookshelves.

“Garrett?” He hummed in acknowledgement, “You might want to look at this.”

At first he seemed indifferent as he flicked over the parchment, but I saw his eyes narrow slightly as he took in the information.

“Bankruptcy?” He wiped a hand over his eye, leaning against a desk, “If this were to get out to other city states-”

“We can expect war… and lose The City forever.”

“Well. No point thinking about it now; we have a job to do.” Garrett pocketed the note, and carried on.

We didn’t speak again until I knocked over an old vase.

“Oops.” Garrett didn’t seem concerned about the vase, instead fascinated by the pure gold watch lying in the shards. Among it all, lay what could only be ashes, most likely of some poor soul or another.

“Did someone plant this and hope it would grow?” I couldn’t help but laugh as he picked up the watch, smiling at his own joke, “I think we’ve wondered enough. Come on.”

It took us less than a minute to get back to the area the necklace was held. We both stood at a switch, watching each other.

“Ready?”

“Yup.” Simultaneously, we pulled our switch down, and the hatch swung open. Garrett’s breath hitched as he caught sight of the Star of Auldale. A true thief.

“Poor old Lady Hudnall. First the fire… now me.” Only when he placed his hand on the necklace did I notice the red wire running behind the alter.

“No, Garrett, _wait-_ ” Too late. He’d grabbed the necklace, and pulled it from its stand.

Then came the alarm.

Garrett turned to me in shock, jumping at the high pitched wail.

“Don’t look at me – that was all you.” Scowling, he turned back, storming off to the entrance of the vault, “Seriously, Garrett, what happened to checking for traps?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, mother.” I stopped. He was actually throwing a hissy fit on me.

“What is with you today? I don’t really like your attitude.”

“I don’t have an attitude!”

“So help me, Garrett: you are having this argument with the mother of an unruly eight year old boy, you are _not_ going to win!” Then he really set me off.

He growled.

“Did. You. Just. Growl. At me?” He ignored me, stepping through the vault door to the main hall. I followed after him; either I go with him or stay here and die, right? We stuck to the shadows, on opposite sides of the room, as guards searched around. In my spite, I whistled, high and loud, alerting three guards by my right.

“Hey!” I rose a hand, pointing at Garrett by the bookshelves. Their jaws all dropped in shock, “It’s him!”

“Get him!” The guards ran right past me, and I gave the thief a satisfactory smile as I waltzed away, out the door we’d come. A sweaty palm clapped over my mouth, a thick arm wrapping around my waist. Gasping, I kicked and scrabbled until I was thrust against a wall, looking up into brown eyes, just like my hallucination.

But it wasn’t a hallucination.

It was _him_.

“Oh, hello.” My arms were raised above my head, his fingers wrapping around my wrists, “So this is the Rat King’s Queen, hmm?”

I couldn’t answer, instead attempting to pull my hands away from his, and failing miserably.

“ _Let her go, Harlan_!” I flinched at the voice, Garrett’s tone sending shivers through me – I doubt even Basso has heard him like that.

“Ah, here’s the man I was looking for.” He pulled at my waist again, and I was suddenly back in the alley.

“No! Let me go!” The General froze, then shoved me back against his chest.

“Is this who I think it is?” My hood was pulled down, my head butted to the right, exposing my neck. A stubby finger traced over the scar, “It is!”

His laugh frightened me more than Garrett’s tone ever could, his lips tracing my ear.

“I remember you.” Whimpering, I shut my eyes, a click registering past the General’s chuckle, “Really, Garrett, there’s no need for violence.”

“Then let her go.”

“Now that I’ve found my doll? No. I was going to come back for you, keep you with me.” The buttons on my shirt popped as he opened them, one by one, “But you were gone.”

By now, Garrett had out a saw tooth arrow, aimed directly at Harlan’s head.

“(Nickname), just say the word.”

“You don’t have the balls.” Sniggering, the General leaned over, placing a kiss on my scar.

I could only manage a sob of Garrett’s name, but it seemed enough for him.

“Agh!” Harlan cried out as the arrow pierced his hand, pulling away from me. I didn’t have to be told to duck, sinking to the floor and throwing my hands over my head. I smelt gas as another arrow erupted above, Harlan sputtering and staggering.

“(Nickname)! (Name), come on!” I winced as my arm was grabbed, crying out and pushing away from who I knew was obviously Garrett. There was a second of hesitation, before he spoke again.

“(Name), we both have five seconds to get out of here, or we’re going to die.” Nodding, I let him drag me out of the bank, through the courtyard and over the wall, trying to regulate my breathing and contain myself.

Nothing worked.

Whenever Garrett tried to hold me, I’d thrust up my arms and struggle until he let go again. Soon, I ended up sliding down against the wall opposite the bank, crying into my arms. A hand was placed gently on my shin, Garrett’s soothing voice quiet by my ear.

“It’s okay, (Nickname). He’s gone. He can’t hurt you.”

It wasn’t okay. I wasn’t okay, no matter how many times Garrett would tell me.

I wasn’t going to be okay.

Not for a long time.


	15. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, mock exams amiright? They suck ass.
> 
> But look, as promised! Angst and fluff and I don't even know what but take it.

“(Nickname)! What happened?” Mat was sceptical as Garrett, his arm around my waist and mine over his shoulder, guided me towards Basso’s bed.

“The General happened.” He sat down beside me, arm still at my side, and squeezed the hand by his face before I dropped it onto my knee.

“What? Harlan shouldn’t have-”

“Harlan wasn’t at the mansion.” Basso suddenly remembered to close his mouth as Garrett turned to look at him, then at his lap, “He was at Stonemarket Bank.”

“But I didn’t send you to Stonemarket Bank.” Basso’s tone wasn’t just suspicious, it was downright accusing.

“I _know_ that.” Garrett hissed, then abruptly stood and walked towards the stairs, “I’m going home.”

The thief disappeared, leaving me, still slightly catatonic, to explain what happened. Something I was not in the mood for.

“Look, he pissed me off, I tried to be smart, and I paid for it, okay?” I was met with blank stares. Apparently, it wasn’t enough.

Fine.

“Garrett tripped an alarm-”

“Okay, now I _know_ your lying.”

“Can it, Basso.” Sitting down next to me, Mat placed her hand on mine, “So, Garrett tripped an alarm, and?”

“And he got frustrated.” I continued to explain the little tantrum Garrett had had, laughing now that I thought it over, and then wondering why I’d ever really gotten angry.

“Momma?” Oh, that’s why.

“Mordred! Come here, sweetie.” He did as he was told, allowing me to pull him into my lap, something I hadn’t done in a while.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, actually.” I whispered, pressing my nose into his hair. Then I realised it was three am, “What are you doing up? Again.”

“Garrett said he’d play chess, remember?” Of course he did, “I can’t find him anywhere!”

Though I wasn’t really listening to Mordred anymore. Instead, I was remembering the conversation between him and the thief before we’d left.

_“Are you and momma going out?”_

_“Yes. We shouldn’t be long.”  
_

_“So momma’s feeling better?”_

_“I suppose so.”_

_…_

_“Garrett?”_

_“Hmm?”  
_

_“Will you play chess with me – when you get back?”_

_“Sure thing, kiddo.”_

_“Promise?”_

_“Yeah, promise.”_

To anybody else, missing a chess game didn’t sound like the end of the world, but I’d raised Mordred to learn that a promise should be kept, no matter what. So he was not going to take it well that Garrett wasn’t going to fulfil that promise.

“Garrett left a little while back sweetie.”

“But… but he promised he would.”

“I know; I’ll see if I can get him to come back.”

“Yes!” With a kiss to my cheek, he ran off, probably going to grab the chess board.

Though I knew he wouldn’t be using it.

Grabbing a match box from the side, I gripped Basso’s pen and simply wrote: ‘Remember what you promised. ~(N)’ and sent it off with his newest pet, Genevieve. I didn’t bother to ask about the name. She was gone for a long five minutes, by which time Mordred had returned, the message gone and bread crumbs stuck to her beak.

“He’ll come right?”

“Maybe, Mordred.” Another hour and Mordred had fallen asleep on Basso’s bed. Garrett still hadn’t arrived.

And that really pissed me off.

Frustrated, I stormed out of the room, through the Burrick, and up to my bedroom, grumbling all the way. After all I’d been through with that thief, after he realised my son actually liked him, a lot, he won’t play a game of chess because he was throwing a tantrum. In a fit of anger, I ripped off my shirt, a few buttons scattering across the floor into forgotten corners, and I growled as I threatened to boil over.

Then I saw my reflection.

I’d avoided looking at the mirror for a while, letting it cloud over with dust to mute the image I didn’t want to see. But now the mirror seemed to glow, begging for attention as my scar burned pink against my skin. Pacing over to it, I wiped the dust with the ruined shirt, and placed a hand at the top of my neck. I traced the scar, up and down, over and over again, trying to tell myself that it didn’t still hurt. That it couldn’t – it was too old. That I was just imagining the stinging sensation I was feeling. I was so concentrated on that, I didn’t notice Matt follow in behind me.

“You know,” I jumped, stopping under my ribcage, “You can’t let a scratch hold you forever.”

“What am I, Matilda?”

“I think you mean w-”

“No, I mean what.” Sighing, I place my palm against my waist, the scar pink under my hand, “I don’t deserve-”

“Now don’t you dare!” I stopped at the hiss, “You deserve everything, (Name), and I’m not gonna let you convince yourself otherwise.”

“Why? What makes me so special?”

“(Nickname), have you looked back on your life recently? Let’s recap: Your house burnt down at eleven, your parents with it; the person that looked after you was raped, then her and her daughter were killed when you were fifteen; you met Basso and went into stealing two years later, and then nearly three years after _that_  you ended up with Mordred and a nasty scar to show how.” She paused, sighing, “And then you met Garrett, and I swear that was the happiest I’d seen you in a while.”

“I’m not th-”

“Yes you are. An idiot could see that you value his presence, and he yours.” She came to my side and wrapped an arm around my waist, head on my shoulder, “And then all that shit with the ghosts happened, and we lost you again.

“(Nickname), with the hand you’ve been dealt in the twenty eight years you’ve been on this earth, I can tell you that you deserve every single ace that comes your way. You’ve already found two of them.”

“Two?”

“Mordred, and your favourite thief who I know is the reason your shirt is missing about ten buttons, and not the reason I would expect.”

“Funny.”

“Don’t doubt him, (Name). He can be an ass, but then so can you. You just have to learn to deal with each other.” A final squeeze, and she began to walk away, muttering something about me getting some sleep.

“Thanks Mat.”

“Yup. And, (Nickname), just tell him.”

“Tell him what?” She was already gone.

* * *

 

Next evening, Garrett seemed rather surprised to receive a smack as he waltzed down the stairs.

“What-?”

“You promised.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Garrett.” I pointed to the chess board, still set up in the corner, then to Basso’s bed, “He was willing to stay up till dawn waiting for you. And don’t try to give me that shit of ‘I forgot’ or ‘I fell asleep’ because I know you Garrett. You don’t forget; you probably remember the first thing I ever said to you. I even sent you a message, which I damn well know you got.” I let out a sigh.

“(Nickname), I’m sorry, but-”

“But nothing!” I fell into mother mode again, shoving at him, “You can’t do that to a little boy, Garrett! Were you ever promised anything you really wanted, whether it be attention or something else, and then not given it? You realise how crushing that is for an eight year old?”

“I-”

“Look, it might sound trivial to you, but he thinks of a broken promise as a sin, Garrett.” I dropped my head against his chest, sated from my outburst, “I’m not trying to guilt trip you or anything like that, but Mordred cares about you and what you think of him. Don’t hurt my baby, or your pretty face will pay for it.”

There was a long silence, then: 

“How are you feeling?”

“Considering the maelstrom of emotions I went through yesterday, pretty good.” An arm looped around my shoulders, and his chin rested on the top of my head.

“About Stonemarket-”

“Garrett, no; I’m too tired for that today.”

“Humour me.” I did as I was told, “I never meant to set off that trap.”

“Duh.”

“And I never meant for the General to be there, and-”

“Garrett-”

“And I never meant for him to hurt you, (Name), you understand that?”

“Yes, I do,” I was now wriggling against him, “but Garrett-”

“(Nickname), you’re making this even more difficult than it already is.”

“I’m not trying to be difficult.”

“Just let me apologise!”

“You have nothing to apologise for!” I lifted my head, grabbing his face in my hands, “None of that was your fault.”

“I should have been-”

“You were being chased down by guards carrying three foot swords – you weren’t exactly going to run towards them.”

“Still, I should have been there.”

“And you were. I survived.”

It ended there.

At one point, we ended up transferring to a chair, me on his lap and his arms circling me. It wasn’t the most comfortable position either of us had been in, but the scent of warm leather and oil made it seem worth it as I buried my nose into his neck, then up to his cheek.

“You’re going on a job today?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“If Basso ever shows his face.” I hummed, nose up by his now, “(Name).”

“Hmh?”

“You are very distracting.”

“What could I be distracting you from, the nice scenery?”

“You underestimate the beauty of the Basso abode.” Giggling, I pulled my face away to look into the mismatched eyes. I swear, every time I see them, they get a little brighter.

“Though it doesn’t compare to me, obviously.”

“Quite.” He chuckled, pulling me closer into his arms, my nose touching his once more.

I wanted to say something, and I knew he did too, but neither of us could seem to find the right words. Every time I thought I was going to say the right thing, the words died on my tongue. So I did the one thing I knew how to do right.

I used touch to show him what I meant.

My hands came to meet at the nape of his neck as I pushed my lips forward, brushing against his. He accepted, wrapping me tighter and tighter into his embrace, until I was sure my lungs would burst and my ribs had cracked. Though I knew this was his, somewhat brutal, way of saying ‘I understand.’

And I really hoped he did.

“That’s gross.” Garrett smirked, and pulled away, eyeing Mordred.

“How so?”

“It’s like that time when Mat kissed my cheek, and there was all spit on it and it was disgusting. It’s like that, but in your mouth, and _blegh_!”

“You’re so dramatic, Mordred.”

“He is your son.” I shushed him as he looked back at said boy, “How about that chess game. I did promise, after all.”

His face lit up like a bonfire.

“Aww, look at the Master Thief going soft.”

“No, I just want to win.”

“You’d be surprised; he’s good for an eight year old.”

“Well, I’ll win either way, even if it takes me all night.”

“Come on, Garrett!” With a brush of lips on my cheek, he took his allocated place on the other side of the board, and I prepared for a long spectator session.

 

Garrett didn’t go on a job that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I really didn't like the way chapter 1 came out, I've decided to upload chapter 2 straight away as consolation.


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